Tabula Rasa
by Serenitey
Summary: Brax has moved on after Charlie's death, but the past always has a way of catching up with you and clean slates are often hard to come by.
1. Chapter 1

**Tabula Rasa**

Brax woke up alone in his bed. He hadn't wanted Natalie here today.

He looked at the clock on his bedside table, the neon green light making a small puddle on the scarred and chipped wood.

4.05am.

He'd slept for three hours.

He laid there for another hour, just staring at the ceiling. His mind made patterns in the darkness. Imagined faces stared back at him. It was still dark when he pulled himself out of bed, and threw on the first pair of boardies he saw.

The beach was grey and empty as he headed towards the water, surf board tucked beneath his arm. The water was cold as he paddled out. It lapped up at him, splashing him in the face. He let wave after wave go and just sat there, watching as the sun began to rise. A soft orange glow had settled over the beach as other surfers began to arrive. He waved them on, letting them catch the first surf of the day. He knew a couple of them but they knew him well enough to stay away. The sun began to prickle at his back, warming his chilled skin. He looked back at the town, Summer Bay, as it awoke. People were milling along the beach on early morning walks, the Surf Club lit up the shoreline, the life guards scanned the surf, deciding what precautions they would need for the day. Everything was normal.

The water lapped up against his waist, and his arms skulled the water keeping him in place. He could feel his feet and hands were soft and wrinkled from the water. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before letting himself fall off the side of the board and welcoming the muted sounds of the water.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. His eyes stung with salt but he kept them open, staring at the sun creeping higher and higher on the horizon. His lungs began to burn and just for a second he considered letting himself sink to the bottom of the ocean. He pushed off the soft sand bed with force, and he broke the surface with a gasping breath.

"Happy birthday, Charlie," he muttered, before lying flat on his board and paddling back to shore.

.

.

It was mid-afternoon before he saw anyone anyone of consequence. The patrons at Angelo's didn't count. They had come in, eaten their fill and now he was just waiting for the last of the stragglers to finish their coffees so he could close up for the afternoon. But then, she walked in. She was the last person that he wanted to see. It just brought everything back up and forced him to think about Charlie and all the things they didn't get to do together. It wasn't her fault, not really, but that didn't change the fact that he felt like ducking behind bar and pretending that he hadn't seen her.

"Hi," Natalie chirped. It made him cringe. "I know that technically lunch has finished but I was hoping that you could make an exception for me and we could have lunch together." She smiled at him and reached across the bar to hold his hand.

Her fingers brushed his and he recoiled, taking a quick step back from the bar.

"Nup," he answered shortly. "Kitchen's closed."

Natalie sat back, dropping her hands to her lap. She looked at him strangely, trying to read him. His face was closed and he crossed his arms across his chest under her scrutiny. He could see her switch into counsellor mode and try to figure out the inner workings of his mind. He broke eye contact, turning around to put bottles of alcohol back on their rightful shelf.

"Oookay," she said slowly. It wasn't like Brax to shut her down like that. It wasn't the first time he had, but she thought they'd moved past that now. After everything that had happened with his dad and everything that had happened between them, she had thought they were in a good place. "Then how about a coffee?"

"You want a coffee? Go see Leah."

Natalie sat there lost for words as she watched him disappear through the kitchen door. She slid off the stool with a shake of her head. She made to follow him, but then sighed angrily and stalked out the restaurant.

.

.

"Flat white please, Leah," Natalie said briskly, slapping a five dollar note onto the counter.

Leah raised her eyebrows and grabbed a brown take away cup. "Bad day?" she questioned.

Natalie sighed and shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "It's just I went to see Brax before," she continued, launching into her story with a deep breath, "and everything has been going so well between us and suddenly were back to square one. He's shutting me out and shutting me down and acting like I'm his worst enemy and I have no idea why," she threw her hands up in exasperation and then rubbed her brow. "We've been together six months and I still don't know why he just turns himself off like that!"

Leah handed her the coffee with a sad, knowing expression. She leaned forward slightly, unconsciously drawing Natalie into her. "It's nothing you did," Leah assured her.

"Yeah, well, I wish I could believe you, but I'm the common denominator here."

"No, really," Leah tried again, "Today just isn't a good day for Brax. " Leah hesitated slightly before continuing, "It's Charlie's birthday."

"Oh my God," Natalie cried, "how could I not have known that?" She buried her face in her hands.

"Well Braxtons aren't exactly know for their communication skills," Leah laughed. "Just give him a bit of space and he'll come round. It's just hard for him."

Natalie nodded. "I just wish he would talk to me," she said sadly. "Maybe I could help."

"I think this is something you have to let him work through by himself," Leah advised.

Two tables away, Ruby sat unnoticed, listening to the conversation. As the two women continued talking about the eldest Braxton, Ruby grasped her necklace briefly, stood up and walked purposefully out of the Diner.

.

.

Brax was sitting alone at Angelo's counting the till when he heard someone making their way up the stairs.

"We're closed,' he grunted as the footsteps drew nearer. "Come back at six."

"It's just me."

Brax dropped the wad of twenties in his hand and relaxed back into his chair. He smiled slightly as his visitor took a seat beside him. "Rubes."

"I hadn't seen you today so I thought I'd drop by."

"Well here I am."

They sat in silence for a few more moments both unsure of what to say next.

"You know," Ruby said suddenly. "It's okay to move on. It doesn't mean you love her any less."

Brax shifted forward in his seat, his hand swiping imaginary fluff off the table. "Who said I was moving on."

"I overheard Natalie at the Diner earlier today."

"Did ya?" Brax said, "And what did she have to say?"

Ruby looked down at her hands. She picked at her pale pink nail polish as she spoke. "You know, I thought you are Charlie were going to get married," Brax let out a heavy sigh and slapped his hands to his thighs.

"Rubes-"

"No, Brax, wait. I thought-" Ruby swallowed, pushing her tears down. "I thought you and Charlie were going to move to the city, get married, have kids and live happily ever after, but... she's gone." Ruby's voice broke as she continued, a few tears escaping down her cheeks. Brax looked to the ceiling, exhaling heavily and blinking back his own tears.

"You were the only person she ever wanted that with - and she loved you so much - but she's gone and you're allowed to want those things with someone else. Charlie would want you to be happy. "

Brax finally looked at Ruby. He rubbed at his face, pushing away the wetness that had gathered there.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to be nice to Natalie," she said with a small, watery smile. Brax let out a involuntary laugh and returned her smile.

"That's Charlie's necklace, aye," he said pointing to the silver chain that rested around her neck.

Ruby reached up, wrapping her fingers around the silver crescent moon shaped detail protectively. "Yeah," she answered with a smile. "It feels almost harder than last year and I just felt like having something of hers close by today."

Brax nodded.

" I don't even know where she got this but she was such a pain when I borrowed it once." Brax couldn't help but smile as Ruby continued, "She totally freaked out. She gave me the longest lecture about not losing it." Ruby rolled her eyes.

"I gave it to her," Brax supplied. Ruby looked up at him surprised. "For her birthday."

They stood in silence for a moment, both captivated by the small silver necklace that glittered in the low afternoon light.

"It's beautiful," Ruby offered finally.

.

.

Thousands of kilometres away, on a humid Queensland evening, Sophie Maxwell stood in her underwear in front of her bedroom mirror. Blue eyes tinged with green bored into her, looking over her body critically. Her skin was tanned and her golden brown hair sat just below her shoulders with barley a wave to it. She ran her hands down her side, following the soft curve of her small breasts, waist and to her hips. Her hands stopped at her hips, and moved inwards, hovering over her stomach.

Her fingertips fluttered over her stomach, delicately tracing the still raw and purple scars that marred her skin. But those scars, that intersected and pulled her skin taunt. Scars that told a harrowing tale. Scars that stood in stark contrast to her sun-kissed skin, demanding attention from all those who saw them, wasn't what captivated Sophie. It was another scar that she couldn't tear her eyes from.

Sophie turned down the black material of her knickers, just enough to reveal the faded line, almost identical to her natural skin tone now. She tilted her head slowly and followed the scar across her body. It ran from hip to hip along her bikini line.

Sophie jumped slightly as strong arms encircled her. A familiar nose nuzzled at her neck and a tattooed hand latched onto hers. He covered her stomach with his hands, pulling her hands away from her scars in the process and hiding the worst of them from view. She could still see the jagged edge of one though, peeking out from behind their fingers. He hid them from her though, as he always did, and kissed her neck softly.

"You've gotta stop this, Soph," he sighed, staring at her reflection. She refused to meet his eyes, instead looking straight down, imagining what the long, pale scar looked like. She had spent weeks staring at it now. She knew it even if the act of encasing her in his arms had locked her scar back behind fabric and foreign flesh.

"It's a caesarean scar, Phillip," she whispered. "I know it is."

Phillip dropped her hands and took a step back in frustration. He ran his hand through his curly brown hair and then stood with his hands on his hips. They'd had this conversation countless times now and he was losing patience. "The doctor has told you over and over again that it's not. It's from having cysts removed when you were a teenager. That's it. You have to stop doing this to yourself," he implored.

Sophie walked slowly to the door and pulled down her fluffy blue dressing gown. She struggled to tie the chord round her waist, her fingers fumbling with the soft fabric as she turned her back to Philip.

"I got a second opinion," she said casually. "And a third, and a fourth. They all say the same thing. Caesarean."

Phillip exhaled through his nose harshly. He tried to keep his frustration at bay. He raised his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.

"Sophie-"

"Charlie," she interrupted, turning sharply to face him.

"What?" Phillip asked, annoyed.

Sophie looked him straight in the eye. She stood tall and strong and spoke with a conviction he had never heard from her before.

"My name is Charlie."

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So that's chapter one! Please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, alerts and favourites. The response to the first chapter of **_**Tabula Rasa **_**has been overwhelming and I especially appreciate everyone who took the time to review. It means a lot that people have engaged with this story and I dearly hope you continue to do so! **

**This is only a short chapter but it seemed a natural stopping point.**

**Tabula Rasa**

_"Sophie-"_

_"Charlie," she interrupted, turning sharply to face him._

_"What?" Phillip asked, annoyed._

_Sophie looked him straight in the eye. She stood tall and strong and spoke with a conviction he had never heard from her before._

_"My name is Charlie."_

.

.

"Since when?"

"I don't know! Probably forever," she replied snippily.

"Sophie," Phillip said slowly and deliberately, "Your doctor has told you what this is."

Sophie crossed her arms across her chest and closed her eyes.

"I know what my doctor has said," she admitted. "But she's wrong."

"Sweetie," Phillip said delicately, "these memories are false. You know that. Not having your memory for the better part of two years has meant that your mind has coped by creating false memories to fill in the gaps." He made his way over to Sophie and rubbed her shoulders. She slumped in defeat allowing him to silence her.

"You suffered a trauma and your mind is trying to rewire itself. Come on," he coaxed, grasping her shoulders firmly and leading her to the bed. She sat on the edge and Phillip kneeled in front of her. He held her hands and looked up at her face, trying to force her to meet his eyes.

"Tell me who you are," he demanded softly.

Sophie sighed. She looked at him for a moment. His pleading brown eyes stared back at her. She rubbed her face in her hands, pulling her lip through her fingers. She took a deep breath.

"My name is Sophie Ann Maxwell," she recited. "I'm a police officer originally from Perth. My parents died in a car accident when I was twenty. No close family. I did well in school and the academy but have been moving around the country since I was 18." She paused for a moment. These weren't things she remembered. These were things she had been told over and over again for the past two years. All her basic information had been read to her from a thin file. Thirty-two years condensed down to a few pages.

"Keep going," Phillip urged. She'd been told to do this. Keep saying it till her mind believed it. Take her pills, say her lines. It was to be expected after her injuries that she'd be confused. "You're doing so well, Sweetie."

"I moved to Queensland two months before I was shot during an armed robbery. My name is Sophie Maxwell."

"Good," Phillip preened. He rubbed her thighs and smiled at her. "It'll get easier, Soph. The real things will start to come back."

She smiled and leant down to give him a quick kiss. He smiled contentedly at her.

"I'm going to have a shower," Sophie said. She wobbled slightly as she stood up and Phillip jumped up, grabbing her forearms to steady her. She grasped his arm lightly in return but then made her way steadily to the en suite.

She closed the door to his smiling face and within seconds had turned on the tap. The water streamed down onto the tiles, bouncing off the rainbow of non-slip, foot shape treads that peppered the floor. But Sophie didn't strip off her robe and get in the shower. Instead she made her way to the bathroom cupboard. She kneeled down slowly. Getting up was going to be difficult.

She pulled the cupboard door open and was meet by a neat stack of blue and white towels. She pulled them out one by one and piled them neatly on the bathroom floor. It would be easier to get them back in that way, no unnecessary folding required. The final white towel, however, she didn't put atop the pile but laid it on her lap. She unfolded the towel to reveal a thick brown journal held together by a black chord. She carefully unwound the chord and unlooped it from her diary. She opened the cover slowly, mindful of the loose pages stuffed in the front cover. Every page was date and time stamped. She needed them all.

She had hidden it here a few months ago. The doctors weren't happy with her writing in it anymore and Phillip always looked so hurt when she did. At first she had simply had it at the bottom of a drawer but she was always so afraid that Phillip would stumble upon it. It wasn't that he would try and snoop, but he was always trying to help her. He was quite likely to go to one of her drawers for her and find it. She couldn't have that. This was private. Her fractured thoughts all together on crowded pages.

It had been a technique that her shrink had given her almost a year ago as a memory exercise. Every time she remembered something, anything, no matter how small, she wrote it down. At first it was just feelings. Words that seemed important. Ruby. Surf. City. Sergeant.

She flipped towards the back of her diary. She would need a new one soon. She had a few pages left but memories were coming faster and stronger now and they didn't make sense. She needed longer entries to try and capture them, not just simply record random words or feelings. Everything was more complicated now. And none of it was right. Everything they told her was different to what she remembered. At first she had thought they were right. It was just her mind coping with her trauma. The memories she had didn't feel like hers. They felt like a story that had been told to her once so it was easy to believe that she had simply made them up. But the feelings she had now. The compulsions. They were too strong to be anything but real.

Four doctors had independently stated that the scar along her bikini line was a caesarean scar, not from having cysts removed as they claimed. Four. That was proof that they were lying. And if they were lying about her scar, what else were they lying about? She had a child. Named Ruby. She knew it. She felt it. There were people that missed her. She knew it. She wasn't alone in the world like they claimed.

It was there on her final entry. It had only been a couple of days ago that she had written it down. It had been so close for so long and she had finally captured the thought in ink. She traced the two circled words with her fingertip.

She was going to Summer Bay.

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A/N: I should probably mention that this is only canon up until Charlie died. I'll probably take some points from then on from H&A but probably not all the 'Ruby is nuts' stuff they've got going on at the moment.

More Brax next chapter, promise! Please review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all,**

**I have this story all planned out and hopefully will be able to update reasonably regularly so please keep adding alerts and especially keep leaving reviews! Reviews are awesome topped with chocolate sauce and a cherry. **

**Thanks. **

**Tabula Rasa**

Natalie hadn't seen Brax in almost a week. He was avoiding her. And doing a damn fine job of it. In fact, the only time she had managed to catch him standing still all week, Ruby had been over for dinner. As much as she wanted to make Brax talk to her about what was going on and to let her in, she knew that forcing herself in-between Brax and Ruby was pointless. The twenty year old turned into a snippy pre-teen every time Natalie walked into the room. While that behaviour was exactly the attitude Natalie received each and every day from her students, Brax always sided with Ruby which made it all the harder to deal with. It was always Natalie's fault for pushing her volatile relationship with his almost-step-daughter.

All Natalie wanted to do was have twenty minutes with Ruby and have a proper talk about everything. Every instinct, every ounce of her training, told her that Ruby's hostility was about being threatened. Brax was all the family she had left and nothing was going to take that relationship away from her. And push come to shove, Brax would never side against Ruby. He was too loyal. It was one of the things she loved about him. And one of the things that she most hated. His blind dedication to those he had chosen to protect. But on that night, Ruby's presence meant he had the perfect excuse to shut the door in her face.

So considering that he had treated her as if she was carrying the plague with a side of syphilis, she was surprised to have him knocking at her door Sunday morning.

"Hi," she said, wrapping her dressing gown loosely around her body. He was leaning casually against the door frame with a smile on his face, his hair wet and shirt slung over his shoulder. "Long time no see."

"Been busy, " he replied simply. He pushed himself off the door frame and slid past her.

"Please, come on in," Natalie said with false cheer. "It's not like you've been avoiding me for the past week." She closed the door with more force than she intended. She watched Brax carefully as he picked up her half eaten slice of vegemite toast and take a bite.

He simply shrugged at her. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

She watched as the her toast disappeared in one final swift bite. She sighed. He dropped into the seat she had been occupying, his arms resting on the half-read newspaper.

"You're really not going to talk to me?"

"Nothin' to talk about."

"Really?" she asked sceptically. She walked over and sat across from him at the kitchen table. She fought the impulse to cross her arms across her chest, instead choosing to lay them on the table. A welcoming pose, rather than closed off and tense. She wanted him to feel comfortable, to talk to her, to let her into his life. They had been together nearly six months and still there were times when she felt she was no closer to figuring him out than when they first met.

"You have nothing you want to say?"

"Nup."

"Nothing about Charlie?" she ventured softly.

He stiffened, and his smile dropped. She watched as he leaned back in the chair and started twisting his thumb ring around. She stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to speak. When he did, she wished she had kept her mouth shut. His tone wasn't cold. It wasn't cruel. It was just a simply stating of facts.

"Talked to Ruby. It's all good. Nothin' for you to worry about."

"You talked to Ruby," she repeated. She smiled sadly. When it came to Charlie, she was never going to be the person he talked to. He was never going to share that part of his life with her. She wasn't sure why she wanted him to. It wasn't like she told him intimate details of all her past relationships and it wasn't as if he had ever asked, but she had been so important to him and there was always that feeling that she was competing with a ghost for his attention.

He missed her saddened expression. His eyes were downcast and he brushed a few crumbs to the floor with the side of his hand. His brow furrowed as he scanned the paper. "You moving?" he asked, holding up the real estate section to show her the scarce few properties she had circled with a deep green sharpie.

There was no point pushing the point, she decided. The conversation was over before it started. "Yeah," Natalie replied. "I've been told to be out in two months."

"But you've only been here a few months," Brax asked confused. "S'not like you've been having wild parties- least not ones you've invited me to, aye," he joked. He smiled at her then. A genuine, casual smile that made her heart race and butterflies erupt in her stomach.

"Owner's son is back from uni and needs the place." She swallowed hard. He flipped the paper over in his hands and the muscles of his arms hypnotised her as they played lightly under his skin.

Brax's eyebrows knitted together. "They can't just kick ya out like that, Nat."

"I only signed a six month lease, so they can," she explained with a heavy sigh. She stood up from the table and took her now empty plate to the sink. She tossed it into the sink with a resounding clang. "And based on that paper, I'm heading back to the caravan park." She turned back to Brax and leant back against the bench.

Brax nodded. He wasn't looking at her and Natalie took the time to just look at him. His broad shoulders and thick, defined arms were relaxed as he sat at her kitchen table. The tattoo on his side, moved in and out as he breathed. He was still fiddling with his ring when he spoke. She focused on the tattoo on his hand. It snaked down his hand, demanding her attention. "For someone I lost," he once told her. For Charlie.

"Why don't you move in with me then?"

"W-what?" Natalie spluttered. Whatever she had expected him to say. It wasn't that. He had never shown any interest in taking their relationship any more seriously.

"Move in with me," he repeated. He pushed himself up from the chair now and moved the few steps to stand in front of her. He placed his hands on the bench on either side of her hips and loomed over her. He smiled at her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "You spend most nights at mine anyway and with Heath with Bianca, and Casey at uni, there's plenty of space."

"Bet Ruby will love that," she scoffed.

"I'll handle Ruby," he told her.

She took a deep breath as he closed the small gap between them, pulling her hips flush against and lowering his mouth to her neck. She was suddenly desperately thankful that her hair was pulled into a messy bun, as his lips travelled unhindered and burned a familiar path down her neck.

"You want me to move in with you?" she questioned, not quite believing that this was all really happening. "Because I got used to the communal shower block before, I can do it again."

She felt the reverberations of his laugh through her neck and she shivered at the sensation. Her breathing was coming a little faster now and she was intensely aware of his hands resting just above her hips.

He pulled his head back and looked her in the eye. "I wouldn't have asked you to if I didn't."

Her eyes focused slowly on his face. He was smiling at her, waiting for her reply. "O-okay."

He smiled broadly and rapped his knuckles on the kitchen bench in celebration. "Got any plans for today?" he asked cheekily, glancing over his shoulder to the front door. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her chest to his. Her arms came up to circle his neck.

"No," she replied with a matching smile.

"Good," he breathed as his lips brushed hers.

.

.

"Sophie," Phillip called out as he let himself into her flat. "I brought Chinese." He made his way to the kitchen and dropped his keys underneath the phone. He sat the bag of Chinese food on the kitchen bench and called out again. He checked his watch. 6.45. She should have been back by now. He quickly checked the bathroom, in case she had settled in for a bath with her iPod on. She had been doing that a lot lately, sitting in the bath for hours, the bathroom door closed. Phillip would have thought that it was boring sitting in slowly cooling water but she claimed to like it.

Phillip sighed as he looked around Sophie's empty bedroom. The bed was unmade, the quilt bunched up the base of the mattress. She never seemed to make it when he wasn't here.

Phillip pulled the sheet up the bed, tucking the sides in tightly. He guessed that he shouldn't be surprised that the bed was unmade, they always made it together. It was probably too hard for her by herself. He fluffed the quilt, snapping it through the air and up the bed. He smoothed the quilt out and rearranged the pillows. He looked at the freshly made bed and smiled.

He checked his watch again, five to seven. Where was she? He made his way back to the kitchen. Sophie's flat wasn't very big. It boasted one bedroom, an en suite, kitchen come dining room, lounge and small laundry. The back yard was nothing more than a triangle of grass and just enough bricked area to accommodate a four seat outdoor set. He'd wanted her to get a different flat. One a bit bigger but she had liked this one. It was closer to the beach and she had desperately wanted to be near the beach. It was important to her that she be close to a beach. He didn't know why. He didn't think that she knew why. Sophie would walk along the shore sometimes but never went for a swim. Besides, she found walking in the soft sand difficult, her bad leg didn't cope with the shifting surface. He noticed sometimes that she would sit and stare out into surf and watch the waves crash against the sand. She never went in. She just watched.

He had captured her in his camera lens once, staring out at the horizon. He hadn't been spying, he had just been taking a photos along the beach and found her. The sun was setting and the light was bouncing off the water, casting playful shadows on the waves. He called out to her but had been too engrossed in the ocean to answer. He followed her gaze and found a surfer paddling his way back into shore.

Within moments, Sophie was on her feet, her speed surprising Phillip. She had met the mystery surfer as he plodded through the shallow water. They stood together for a minute with the waves crashing around their ankles. Sophie walked away with a frown after a short conversation. He watched her limp up the sand, trudging back to the footpath. Every step seemed to weigh heavily on her slumped shoulders, every step was an effort. It was a stark contrast to the woman who had just moments before sprung to her feet.

Phillip had just watched her as she had been watching the waves. Seeing something that wasn't really there. Part of him wanted to help her. Offer his support as he always did, be her crutch but he couldn't move. She had seen something in that water that he doubted she could or would explain.

Sophie made Phillip nervous in those moments. Moments when she would forget he was there and stare into space. The moments when she would forget about the weakness in her left side and try to do things he knew she couldn't. Moments when she would see people and it was like she was seeing someone else entirely. Her mind was trying to superimpose a memory over the image before her. In those moments he felt like he lost her.

There was someone else hovering below the surface of Sophie. She was simmering beneath the persona of Sophie, waiting for a crack to escape through. She only bubbled up occasionally, but in those moments, those moments when Sophie morphed into someone who would dismiss his opinion or close off to him. Moments when she was stronger and harsher. Moments when for once, he was the thing in her life she didn't recognise.

More and more, he felt like there was something she wasn't telling him. Sophie used to tell him everything. Every little thing she remembered, she would tell him. Every detail of her day was up for discussion. It had gotten worse now that she had a new job. He supposed that's where she was now. Working late, while he sat alone at her kitchen table, the smell of cooling Chinese wafting around him. Waiting for her.

He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. He was afraid this would happen. She was pushing herself to hard trying to prove herself to her boss. Phillip understood, to some degree at least, why she had gotten the job. She had been bored, he could see it. She had been a police officer. She thrived on puzzles and knew random pieces of legislation better than she knew the back of her own hand. She thrived on the mysteries that were presented to her, she smiled as she sorted through piles of worthless information looking for one point that would let her figure it all out.

He had to admit she was happier since she had gotten her private detectives licence. He had assumed she would go back to being a police officer but she had handed in her resignation almost immediately after being cleared for desk duty. She had said that she felt it was time to move on from being a police officer. Phillip had assumed that it was a fear of being hurt again that made her resign, but now he wasn't so sure. There was something else that kept her from the police force, something that she was keeping to herself.

Sophie used to have dinner with him every evening but now she was working for a small detective firm, she was working herself harder and harder. Phillip was afraid that if she pushed herself too hard, she would burn herself out, and set her recovery back.

Eight o'clock came and went with no sign of Sophie. He text her and then sat watching the phone hoping for the familiar ding of his message tone. It wasn't till nine o'clock that he heard the front door open.

She was humming an unfamiliar tune as she walked in the door. She gasped when she saw him at her table and swatted at him as she passed into the kitchen, dumping her bag on the counter.

"You scared me!" she cried as got herself a drink of water. "I didn't think you were coming over tonight."

She drained the water quickly and left the glass on the sink. She sat down across from him with a tight smile.

"You're home late," Phillip said casually.

Sophie closed her eyes and sighed softly. She knew this was coming. She shrugged. Maybe he would just let it go?

"Had a case to crack," she said with an attempt at a grin.

Phillip just looked at her. "It's past nine o'clock."

"I know but I wanted to get this case closed because if I get this one over and done with quickly, Nick might actually give me something substantial to sink my teeth into. Just because I can't remember my detective skills doesn't mean that all I'm capable of finding is cheating husbands!"

Phillip tensed. Sophie could see the ripple of discomfort work its way through him. "Sorry," she muttered. He never like it when she joked about her injuries. Severe as they had been, she really was fine now. Sure there were some things she found difficult. Like stairs or small buttons. But generally, minus the complete memory loss, she was fine. She coped. She adjusted. She just wished other people could see that. She wasn't some fragile bird waiting to be rescued from the nest.

"Sophie," Phillip started again, "I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to have any unnecessary setbacks. Your recovery was so hard and I-"

"I know," Sophie interrupted, clasping his hand on top of the table. "I know, but you have to let me do things my way." She knew he was worried. She knew that he had seen her at her lowest but she didn't know how to convince him that she was fine. She wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion.

Phillip nodded sadly and squeezed Sophie's hand. "Have you eaten?"

"Yeah," Sophie said guiltily, "but I could eat again!"

Phillip laughed. "No, no. Have it tomorrow. Left over Chinese is always awesome."

Sophie smiled and nodded. Phillip stood up and gave Sophie a kiss on the head. She watched him potter around her small kitchen, washing up his dirty plates, and her breakfast ones, and putting the leftover Chinese food in the fridge. He straightened her toaster and kettle, before picking up her bag to put it in its rightful place, on the hook he had installed behind the kitchen door. He thought it looked neater that way. Too late she realised that the zip was still open and as he pulled the bag towards him, Sophie watched in horror as a piece of paper slipped out and floated to the ground.

"I'll get it," Sophie said with what she hoped was nonchalance, but he waved her off, bending down and grasping the paper before she had made it three steps.

She thought that for a second he hadn't realised but then he flicked the folded portion of the page up. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. _Shit. _

Phillip stared at the paper in disbelief. He looked from Sophie to the printed page with mouth agape.

"A plane ticket?" he whispered, incredulously.

Sophie flinched. She wished he would just yell.

"You bought a ticket to Sydney… for next weekend?"

Sophie sat back down at the kitchen table. She didn't know what to say. This wasn't the way he was supposed to find out. It was supposed to be after she was already gone. She was going to call him and let him know and then everything would have been fine.

"What's in Sydney?" he asked. He already knew the answer but he needed her to say it. He needed her to tell him.

"Summer Bay," she said simply. "Ruby."

"Soph!"

"No, don't 'Soph' me," she said quickly. "I know you and everyone else thinks that I made her up but I didn't. She is real and I need to find her."

"Are you still taking your medication?" She didn't answer him. "Oh my god. How long?"

"I remember more when I'm not on them. When I take them it's like all my memories have been put on mute and I can only get a bit of the meaning but now everything is louder and clearer. Like a fog has lifted," she tried to explain. Rationalise her behaviour. She could see that he didn't believe her. That's why she didn't tell him. She was going to give him a call from the road and let him know when she would be back. That way he couldn't try and talk her out of it as he was about to do.

"What about your physical therapy?" Phillip tried. "You have an appointment on Thursday."

Crap. She had forgotten that.

"I'll reschedule it. They won't mind I've been making great progress."

"For now," Phillip stressed, "but Sophie, if you stop going to physical therapy and you stop doing your exercises, your left side is never going to get any stronger. You might lose _all_ the use of your hand you've regain. The muscles will atrophy and curl back again."

"I know all that," Sophie defended herself harshly, "I've been doing my exercises and I can continue to do them in Summer Bay."

They stayed in their impasse for a few minutes. Sophie sitting at the table, her shoulders hunched and eyes downcast, while Phillip stood above and paced her small kitchen, searching for a reason to stop her.

"There's nothing I can say is there?" Phillip asked softly, defeated. "No matter what I say, you're still going to go."

Sophie nodded. "I have to. She's my daughter."

Phillip closed his eyes against her words and shifted his head to the side so that when he opened his eyes he wouldn't have to look directly at her. He stood there like that for a moment. Thinking. Mulling over what she had just told him. What she had been telling him for weeks now. "I'm going with you," he said finally.

Sophie's head snapped up. "What?"

"You'll have to change the ticket for a later one because I have the Lawson photo shoot, but I'm coming with you."

"I-"

"No, if she's not there, which I still don't think she is by the way, you're going to need someone and I don't want you to go through that alone," he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He spoke the next sentence as if the words were being slowly pulled from him one after the other like multi-coloured scarfs from a depressed clown's sleeve. "And if she is there," Sophie inhaled sharply, "Well, if she is there than…I guess… I don't know. I should meet her."

Sophie jumped up and wrapped her arms around Phillip. He reciprocated slowly, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "Thank you," she whispered.

Phillip stood, holding Sophie tightly, staring off vacantly at the beige walls of the kitchen. There was no way this was going to end well for him.

"She'll be there," Sophie said desperately. "You'll see. She'll be there."

.

.

"So out of the blue," Natalie told Leah, "no warning, he says, 'why don't you move in with me?' Why don't you move in with me!"

Leah stood beside Natalie with an empty coffee cup in her hand and a confused expression on her face. "And you don't want to move in with him, I take it?"

"No!" Natalie cried, "I'd love to."

"Then, I'm sorry but I don't see the issue," Leah laughed. "You want to move in, he wants you to move in. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that last week he's shutting me out because its Charlie's birthday and now this week he wants us to move in together, and I know he meant move in once my lease ends but still! Everything is just suddenly moving so fast," Natalie slumped back into her chair with a deep sigh, "I don't want him to regret doing anything with me. I want him to want the things I want for us."

Leah took a deep breath and sat down at Natalie's table. The Diner was slowly emptying as kids headed back to school and the seaside town's residents returned to work. She had a few minutes to spare before they worked on preparing for the after school rush of milkshakes and cakes.

"Have I ever told you about VJ's dad?" she asked.

Natalie shook her head. Natalie had heard a little bit about Leah's past, mainly from Marilyn, but didn't have many details past that Leah had lost more than most people did in a life time.

"He died when VJ was still tiny. His name was Vinne and he was perfect." Leah smiled as she talked, looking off the side and towards the beach as if she could see Vinne while she did. "He was funny and handsome and …bright. He was bright and he was the love of my life."

Leah shrugged. Her eyes were dry and her smile wasn't sad, and it wasn't quite wistful. It was comforting. Natalie placed her hand over Leah's, giving it a small squeeze as Leah talked.

"And when he died I didn't think I would ever be able to move on or find anyone who even came close to Vinne, but then I met Dan. And he wasn't Vinne, our relationship wasn't like the one Vinne and I had," Leah finally focused on Natalie with a soft smile. "But it wasn't less either."

Natalie smiled back. Leah got up slowly, taking Natalie's plates and giving her shoulder a light squeeze as she left.

Maybe things with Brax were moving at just the right speed after all.

.

.

So that was chapter three. Let me know what you thought in a review. More to come soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Tabula Rasa**

"_I'm going with you," he said finally._

_Sophie's head snapped up. "What?"_

"_You'll have to change the ticket for a later one because I have the Lawson photo shoot, but I'm coming with you."_

"_I-"_

"_No, if she's not there, which I still don't think she is by the way, you're going to need someone and I don't want you to go through that alone," he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. He spoke the next sentence as if the words were being slowly pulled from him one after the other like multi-coloured scarfs from a depressed clown's sleeve. "And if she is there," Sophie inhaled sharply, "Well, if she is there than…I guess… I don't know. I should meet her."_

_Sophie jumped up and wrapped her arms around Phillip. He reciprocated slowly, nuzzling her neck with his nose. "Thank you," she whispered. _

_Phillip stood, holding Sophie tightly, staring off vacantly at the beige walls of the kitchen. There was no way this was going to end well for him._

_"She'll be there," Sophie said desperately. "You'll see. She'll be there."_

_._

_._

"Will you hurry up!" Sophie yelled to Phillip.

Sophie sat impatiently on Phillip's couch, waiting for him to finish packing his toiletries. She was anxious to get on the road. It had been almost six weeks since Phillip had offered to come with her and finally the day had come. He couldn't put it off with work any longer and Sophie wasn't willing to wait. She checked her watch again. Their plane left in three hours. They needed to be at the airport.

Phillip popped his head out into the lounge room. "The airport is ten minutes away. We have plenty of time."

"I want to get going, that's all," Sophie pouted. She crossed her arms and slumped back into the soft leather lounge.

Phillip laughed lightly. "I know, but its wait here or wait in the airport and trust me, that couch," he said pointing at her, "is way more comfortable than any plastic monstrosity the airport can come up with."

Phillip disappeared back behind the wall. Sophie poked her tongue out at the empty space.

.

.

Natalie set herself up at Angelo's and waited for Brax to head back over to the bar. He was making nice with some difficult suppliers and plying them with free wine. She watched him laugh and lightly slap his supplier on the back, then roll his eyes as he walked away.

"Hey," she said, as he made his way over to her. "Going well?"

He shrugged. "We'll see, I guess." He quickly kissed her on the cheek before heading back behind the bar. He poured her a glass of wine and presented it to her with a smile.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip. "I wanted to talk to you."

Brax cocked his head to the side. "Something I should be worried about?"

"No, no," Natalie said, waving her arms in front of her. "Least I hope not. It's just that my lease ends in a couple of weeks and-"

"Yeah, Nat," Brax interrupted. "You're still all good to move in with me."

Natalie smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I told ya," Brax said leaning across the bar, his lips teasingly close to hers. She swore she could feel them brushing hers as he spoke. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to move in."

Natalie smiled and closed the gap between them. No matter how many times he kissed her, it still sent tingles down her spine.

The sound of someone loudly gagging caused the two lovers to break apart.

"Ruby," Natalie greeted politely.

"God, I hope the novelty of PDAs wears off when you two move in together. It might be safe to order pizza again."

"Rubes," Brax warned, raising his eyebrows at her. Sophie sat quietly. Ruby hadn't been happy with her when Brax announced she was moving in with him. If Natalie was being honest, that comment was one of the nicer ones Ruby had directed towards her in recent weeks.

"Yes, yes, I know," Ruby sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "Be nice to Natalie because she is very important to you, blah blah bitty blah." Ruby turned her attention to Natalie and looked her up and down appraisingly. Natalie could feel Ruby's eyes raking over her, taking in every perceived imperfection.

"That shirt really brings out your eyes," Ruby said with a false enthusiasm. She pivoted back to face Brax, her arms spread out, "Happy?"

"Yeah," Brax replied. "That nearly brought a tear to my eye, aye."

Ruby laughed, drawing a small smile from Brax. "Pizza, please."

Brax reached behind the bar and plopped a brown paper bag on the bar in front of Ruby. Her smile dropped.

"That's not my pizza."

"It's a warm chicken salad."

"What? I ordered pizza."

"Like you have for the past four days and ya mum would kill me if I let you eat like that. She'd make ya something good."

"Charlie couldn't cook. Where do you think I learnt these eating habits?"

"Which is why she had me and Leah," Brax argued, "Enjoy your chicken salad."

"But you have the good melty cheese again," Ruby whined.

"And make sure you say that as you go past the supplier at table six." Brax smiled at her.

"I could just go to the Diner, you know. Get a burger and chips."

"Yeah, try it," Brax said with a cocked eye-brow. "See what happens."

Ruby grabbed the bag petulantly.

"Now out," Brax ordered. "And say bye to Natalie."

"Bye Natalie," Ruby parroted and she stalked out of Angelo's, glaring at her warm chicken salad.

Brax watched her go with a smile and turned back to Natalie. "Want her pizza?" he offered, with a grin.

"Yes, please," Natalie laughed.

"I'll go get it for ya." He kissed her lightly and headed out to the kitchen to retrieve the pizza.

Natalie smiled contentedly. Ruby was coming around. Brax was happy. Everything was perfect.

.

.

"Phillip!" Sophie yelled from the footpath.

"Right, right. I'm ready." Phillip walked out the front door, closing it tightly behind him and double checking it was locked.

"Then hurry up!" Sophie commanded. "We are going to miss this flight."

Phillip kissed Sophie's frown. "No _we _ are going to sit bored in an airport for an hour before they open the gates."

He chucked his suitcase in the boot and unlocked the car with a flourish that any Sale of the Century beauty would be proud of. Sophie scowled at him as the car beeped and orange light flickered against her legs. Phillip slipped into the driver's seat and he called out, "Coming?"

.

.

Sophie sat impatiently in the airport lounge, tapping her foot against the seat leg. She checked her watch, huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. Phillip watched her out of the corner of his eye, his iPad resting on his knee.

"It'll be fine, Soph," Phillip ventured. She was so tense and agitated, he just wanted her to calm down.

She turned in her seat to glare at him. "We're going to have to spend a night in Sydney because it'll be too late by the time we get there to get to Summer Bay."

"It's one night. We have a week there."

Sophie snorted and checked her watch again.

"Now boarding Tiger flight A6-34 direct from Queensland to Perth," a muffled female voice announced over the loud speaker. "Would all passengers please make their way to gate 34."

"Unbelievable," Sophie muttered. "Tiger boards and Qantas is delayed."

"We're not heading to Perth."

"That's not the point!" Sophie snapped. "If we'd left when I wanted to, none of this would be happening. I'd be in Summer Bay with Ruby instead of stuck here with you in this bloody airport!"

Phillip slapped the cover of his iPad closed and shoved the tablet into her arms. "Hold this," he growled.

"Wait. What? Where are you going?"

Phillip didn't answer her. He didn't look back as she called his name. He just kept walking.

He stalked into the bathroom and turned on the tap, filling cupped hands with water. He splashed his face, rubbing the water into his skin. He let the water run down the sink as he stared into the mirror. Everything was his fault lately. Sophie had been distant and tense, snapping at him for every little thing he did. Phillip felt like he had been walking on egg shells laced with dynamite for weeks now and the closer they got to Summer Bay, the worse she got.

"Oi, mate," a man said as he walked out of a cubicle and to the sink beside Phillip. "Country's in a fucking drought."

"Oh, right, sorry." Phillip quickly grasped the tap, pulling the handle down hard to stop the flow of water. The man washed his own hands and walked out, shaking his head as he left.

Great, now he was even pissing off strangers.

He stared at his reflection once more. He looked the same. Light brown curly hair in need of a trim (but he was the only one who would really notice that), brown eyes, slightly too big nose, strong chin. He was still the same man. But he didn't feel the same. This trip wasn't going to end well. Regardless of whether Ruby was there or not; a figment of Sophie's imagination, a symptom of her injuries or a fully fleshed person, a daughter or a friend, it didn't matter. Whether Sophie found what she was looking for or not, this trip was not going to end well for Phillip. He could feel it. The most he could do was try and keep hold of her.

Phillip took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and straightened his jacket and belt, and then headed out of the bathroom to where Sophie was sitting. She was exactly how he had left her. Arms crossed, scowl etched on her face, foot tapping and checking her watch every thirty seconds, just in case an hour had passed. Yes, she was just as he had left her. Anxious to leave him in search of something she didn't know, and couldn't remember. Anxious to get away from life they'd built together. Anxious to get away from him.

.

.

A night in Sydney and a free buffet breakfast had done nothing to soothe Sophie's frazzled nerves nor had the mix up with the car rental that delayed their departure for a further three hours. Sophie was seething by the time they hit the road on the way to Summer Bay. The GPS's artificial American voice telling them to turn left in 500 metres, right in 30 and straight for 7.2 kilometres, was the only voice in the car for the first hour of the trip.

Coming up to a rest stop, Phillip decided that he needed to get out of the car, if only for a few minutes, and try and improve Sophie's mood.

"What are you doing?" Sophie asked as Philip slowed down and turned into a café car park.

"Shouting you lunch," Phillip replied with a smile. He turned a deaf ear to her protests and turned off the car. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and awkwardly shoved them deep in his pocket. Sophie glared at him, waiting for the lecture she knew was coming.

"Come on," he said, with a surprisingly jovial tone. Sophie had been expecting a stern talking to, a pep talk even, but what she got was a simple statement of facts and a plea. "It's been a long start to the trip. I'm tired. You're tired. Things have gone wrong, so why don't we stop for an hour, regroup, have something to eat, and then we'll concentrate on getting you to Summer Bay." He looked at her for confirmation, acceptance of his plan.

"Okay," Sophie conceded after a long moment. "But just for one hour!"

That was enough for Phillip, he bounded out of the car and was around the other side to open Sophie's door before she had unbuckled her seat belt. Sophie couldn't help but smile at his exuberance. He was trying. He was trying for her. The least she could do was be good company for lunch.

She twisted herself out of the car and took a deep breath. It smelt different here than in Queensland. She could smell the scrub and the Eucalyptus floating on the light breeze that played in her hair. The sun shone down on them, taking away any bite that the breeze may have brought with it.

She looked around the small rest stop. There were a few cars dotted around the car park. Families piling in and out, stretching their legs and trying to tire out their children for a few hours of peace once they set off again. She saw an older couple sitting at a bench, eating their pies with knives and forks and enjoying the early afternoon sun.

She grasped Phillip's hand as they made their way in to the café, which made him smile and bring their clasped hands to his mouth for a quick kiss to the back of her hand. They stood together for a few minutes in line, waiting for their turn to order. Sophie hadn't let go of Phillip's hand and had leaned into his side, rubbing her free hand over his bicep.

Once they had ordered, Sophie left Phillip to wait for their food, while she found them a table. The older couple had left, so Sophie made her way over to their table. It was in a lovely spot. Back from the road, so the noise of passing traffic was absorbed by the buildings and line of trees. The sun warmed her side, without a causing a glare and she could look out over to the bush, with its high trees and low shrubs, the sound of unseen kookaburras completing the postcard of a scene. She was watching a young family playing frisbee in the car park when Phillip made his way over to her, a tray of food in his hands. She watched her smile reflect back at her in his sunglasses as he sat down.

"One fruit salad, yoghurt and orange juice," he said, placing a fork atop the plastic container he had laid in front of her.

"Yummy, thanks."

"And for the car ride," Phillip continued. He pulled out a block of Cadbury Topdeck Chocolate from below the tray.

Sophie laughed. "Oh, you know me so well."

"It's for both of us though, you do have to share," he warned.

"You're driving!" Sophie exclaimed, "You're going to need both hands on the wheel at all times. These country roads can be winding and dangerous."

Phillip threw a serviette at her.

.

.

They had sat at the rest stop for almost an hour and a half, before Phillip caught Sophie checking her watch, her brows furrowed above her sunglasses.

"Ready to get back on the road?" Phillip asked pre-emptively. He had finally got his Sophie back and he didn't want her to slip back into this morning's mood.

Sophie shot him a relieved smile and he could see her shoulders release their tension as she spoke. "Yes please. We're still a few hours away and besides," she added, "I want to open that chocolate!"

Sophie slid herself out of the picnic bench and pushed herself to her feet. She limped noticeably as she moved away from the table.

"You okay?' Phillip asked, coming to her side, his arm snaking its way around her waist.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him, "Just a little stiff from sitting for too long."

Her limp diminished as she walked through the car park to the silver rental car. Phillip watched her covertly, making sure that it really was just stiffness, before slipping back into the driver's seat.

.

.

Brax had had a busy morning. He hadn't been at Angelo's but he had filled his morning quite thoroughly with an ill fated attempt at carpentry. He hadn't thought it would be that difficult, he was just fixing up an old wardrobe he had bought, but the more he worked on it, the more work he found it needed.

He sighed as he took in the sight of the half assembled and now half sanded wardrobe. It wasn't even his bloody idea. It was Ruby's. She had popped her head in last week, wanting him to have a look at her car, and after a brief jibe at his decorating skills, she had proceeded to scold him for just about every aspect of his apparently very non-female friendly living space. Everything from the colour of his sheets, to his bed frame, to the lack of storage to the feng shui of his room, had been up for discussion.

"Brax," Ruby had cried. "Natalie is going to take one look at this place and go running for The Caravan Park!'

Brax had looked around confused. "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh my god, where do I start?"

Brax just glared at her.

"You have _one_ bedside table," Ruby began her list, checking things off on her fingers as she went, "And a chest of drawers that barely holds your limited wardrobe, where is she supposed to put all her stuff? Your curtains are just ugly, no bed frame, no mirror-"

"Well there's not exactly a lot of room in here, aye," Brax had defended himself, scratching his head.

"Brax, you have _three _surfboards in here!"

So now, thanks to Ruby's insistence that his room was completely inhabitable to anything resembling a woman, he had a wardrobe that had seemed like a bargain at first glance but needed new hinges, a fresh coat of oil, a new bar across the inside and the drawer at the base seemed like it may have been on its last legs. He had only planned on needing to attach a mirror to the inside door. Truthfully, it wasn't that big a job and he could always rope Heath into helping, but it was just time consuming having to sand everything back to start a fresh. Hell, it had take him half an hour just to move it from his room to the back yard to get a start on the sanding. Time he didn't really have to spare in the next two weeks.

His stomach rumbled loudly, demanding food. He threw down the sander and sat back onto the grass. The wardrobe doors were lying on the ground, the old rusted handles sticking up into the air, dust from his half complete sanding job coated the grass and his shirt in equal measure.

Brax stripped off his shirt and chucked it over the washing line, hoping the breeze would take most of the dust off, before heading inside. He made himself baked beans on toast and plopped down on the couch to eat them. He placed his feet on the coffee table, crossing his legs at the ankles. He ate mechanically, soaking up the last of the baked bean juice with his toast. He rolled his shoulders back, feeling tension pull at his muscles. He need a surf. He hadn't been in days and it had left his body a wreck and his head full.

Brax wasn't sure why he was so nervous. It wasn't like he and Nat didn't get along. They did. Sure, they fought a bit but nothing major. He wanted her to move it. They spent enough time with each other now that it wouldn't be that big an adjustment to have her living with him. There was just something that was making him take a step back. Something that wasn't sitting right with him. There was something he had missed. He just wished he could think what it was. It was probably just Ruby putting doubt in his head, even as she tried to help him. Once he had the wardrobe finished, he was sure the weight would lift.

He sighed and pushed himself off the couch, intent of getting a couple of hours of good surf before he headed into work.

The wardrobe could wait.

.

.

Sophie sat up straighter as they passed through Yabbie Creek, a smile beginning to take hold of her features. A full blown grin over took her as they drove past the 'Welcome to Summer Bay' sign. The bright orange and yellow sign signalling more than just proximity to a small coastal town. It was a vindication of everything she had fought for, confirmation that her memories weren't false. She wasn't crazy. She was going home.

They drove through the sea side town with Sophie hanging out the window like an excited puppy. They parked along the foreshore at Sophie's insistence. She stood at the wooden railing that separated grass from sand and stared out at the ocean. She took a deep breath and turned to look back at Phillip, but as she turned something else caught her eye.

Further up the beach, a surfer was jogging up the pathway towards the showers. He dropped his board on the grass and turned the tap, letting the cold water wash the salt from his back. She watched as the water ran down across his tattoos and she squinted trying to make out what the tattoo on his lower back said. He was broad and muscular, even from this distance she could tell that. He ran his hands through his short brown hair, shaking the water through it. She could just make out a smile on his face as he turned his head towards the late afternoon sun. Her eyes flicked from tattoo to tattoo, back, arm, side, her eyes traced them without truly being able to see their shape. They were black smudges in the distance but her eyes followed them all the same, tracing a familiar path. She took a step towards him when his voice yelling out stopped her. She couldn't make out what he said, she was too far away.

A blonde woman made her way over to him as he finished his shower. She felt tears well behind her eyes as the surfer reached out and grabbed the woman around the waist eliciting a high pitch sequel from the blonde. The blonde beat his hands from her waist, trying to wipe the water from her shirt before it seeped through, but allowed him to lean in and kiss her.

"Soph?" Phillip's voice broke through her haze.

"What?" she asked, distractedly, turning her attention back to Phillip.

"I said are you ready to get going. It's almost five o'clock. By the time we find the hotel and check in, it'll be time for tea."

Sophie looked back over to where the surfer and his girlfriend had just been but another tattoo free surfer had taken his place. She searched the area for him, before he eyes settled on a sign outside of the Surf Club.

"Why don't we pop into Angelo's first?" she suggested, pointing to the sign.

Phillip followed her gaze and shrugged. "It's closed, besides I reckon this The Sands is on the other side of town so we should get going to check in on time."

"I saw a sign for a caravan park," Sophie suggested, "That could be closer."

"We've already booked The Sands," he said confused. "Come on we'll check in, have dinner and tomorrow you can explore." Phillip came forward and took her hand, leading her back to the car.

Sophie looked back at the Surf Club allowing Philip to pull her along. Her eyes travelled up the building and settled on the balcony. She stared at it as Phillip got himself settled in the car and pulled away, hoping that the surfer would make an appearance.

.

.

So Charlie/Sophie has officially make it to summer Bay... with Phillip in tow. Let me know what you thought in a review! Any feedback is appreciated. Thanks in advance!


	5. Chapter 5

**It has now become a little awkward when to call Charlie Charlie and when to call her Sophie, so hopefully it will feel fairly consistent and will have an internal logic if nothing else. **

**I wrote a fair chunk of this story (well, at least a couple of chapters) by hand last week when I really should have been imparting knowledge to young minds instead of having them watch Shrek and V for Vendetta. But what I have learnt through this experience is although I managed to hand write thousands of words, I also managed to hand write thousands of words! Words that could not be uploaded and first had to be typed. Yay! for editing, shithouse for sanity. But despite the shocking discovery that handwriting is not typed text, here it is, chapter five of Tabula Rasa! **

**I hope you enjoy it and it compels you to leave copious amounts of riveting and inspiring reviews. **

**Tabula Rasa**

_Sophie looked back over to where the surfer and his girlfriend had just been but another tattoo free surfer had taken his place. She searched the area for him, before he eyes settled on a sign outside of the Surf Club._

_"Why don't we pop into Angelo's first?" she suggested, pointing to the sign._

_Phillip followed her gaze and shrugged. "It's closed, besides I reckon this The Sands is on the other side of town so we should get going to check in on time."_

_"I saw a sign for a caravan park," Sophie suggested, "That could be closer."_

_"We've already booked The Sands," he said confused. "Come on we'll check in, have dinner and tomorrow you can explore." Phillip came forward and took her hand, leading her back to the car. _

_Sophie looked back at the Surf Club allowing Phillip to pull her along. Her eyes travelled up the building and settled on the balcony. She stared at it as Phillip got himself settled in the car and pulled away, hoping that the surfer would make an appearance. _

.

.

Sophie stood in just a towel in the steam filled bathroom at The Sands and wiped a circle of moisture from the mirror.

Her own sad face stared back at her. Nothing was turning out the way she planned. She'd lost a day with the plane delay and Phillip's insistence that they check into their hotel rather than see the town. It felt like he was trying to keep her from the town. They could have had dinner in town, met people, walked around, rather than eat an overpriced veggie stack in The Sand's dining room.

She sighed. Maybe she was being unfair. They did need to check in and Phillip had rearranged his schedule to come with her. He was here, supporting her as he always was. Maybe she was reading too far into things.

She took a deep breath and stared into the mirror. Her right hand came up to her face, running her finger tips along the left side of her lower lip and then up to her eye. She pulled the outer edge up slightly before dropping her hand with a frown.

Would anybody even now her? Would she recognise anyone if she saw them. She shook her head. No, there was no point running through what ifs now, no good worrying about what she couldn't change. She 'd know Ruby when she saw her. She knew she would. She could almost see Ruby's face in her mind's eye now. She'd know Ruby. She had to.

So maybe she wasn't giving herself or Phillip the credit they deserved, but as she dried herself and dressed, she couldn't help but not feel a trace of guilt about what she was about to do.

Sophie exited the bathroom, her hair still damp and her shoes and bag held awkwardly in her left hand. She crept through the dark hotel suite, past Phillip asleep in the bed and slowly opened the door. She pulled it closed softly behind her, pushing her hands against the wood to soften the sound. She flinched as the lock clicked shut and her held her breath waiting for Phillip to jump up and follow her out. When no sound came from within the room, she continued up the corridor, standing impatiently at the lift. She dropped her shoes to the floor and slipped her foot inside. She entered the lift with one shoe on and spent the short trip to the ground floor bent over and forcing her foot into her sandal.

The young man on the desk nodded at her as she made her way through the plaza and Sophie smiled as she broke through to outside.

The sun was only just rising, the ground still dewy and shadowed. She could feel the crisp morning air chilling her exposed skin but she didn't' care. She was finally in Summer Bay. She walked along the shore front looking out at the beach with surfers milling about the waves. She searched the water for the elusive tattooed surfer to no avail.

The sun was well established in the sky by the time she reached the main town. She was warming up now and the combination of walking and the rising temperature made her stomach rumble loudly. Food was the first order of business. She strolled into the Pier Diner. The Diner was empty, only a few people moved in and out, getting coffee and heading into work. It had only been open fifteen minutes she supposed, she couldn't expect too many people to be there.

She walked up to the counter where a young woman with dark brown hair was cleaning the coffee machine of runaway flecks of milk. Through the cut out she could see into the kitchen where an older, red headed woman cutting up fruit for the day.

"Excuse me," Sophie said politely, "Could I please get a green tea and a blueberry muffin?"

"Sure," the dark hair woman replied. "They're fresh out the-" she looked up and froze. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "Charlie?" she gasped.

Sophie shifted uncomfortably. The dark haired woman continued to stare at her in disbelief. The colour had drained from her face and she had silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Leah, love," the red head interrupted, exiting the kitchen with a plate of pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and served with a dollop of cream and large scoops of ice-cream. "VJ's pancakes are - oh my gawd father!" she cried. Her hand flew to her heart, the pancakes flipping through the air and crashing to the ground. "Charlie!"

Sophie stepped back in alarm. "Sorry," she began, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Startle us? Love, oh my giddy aunt."

The plate shattering seemed to break Leah from her trance and she rushed out from behind the counter and wrapped her arms around Sophie. Sophie patted Leah's back awkwardly. Leah stepped back, her hands still grasping Sophie's arms. "I'm just so happy to see you!" she gushed, tears falling down her cheeks. "I've missed you. Does Brax know you're here? Ruby? Oh my God, how are you going to explain this to them?"

Sophie looked back at Leah confused. She opened her mouth to respond but couldn't think of anything to say. Leah was looking at her pleadingly, on the verge of bawling, grasping her arms tightly while the older woman stood with her hand over her heart and tears in her eyes.

Sophie didn't know what to do. This wasn't what she expected. She didn't know these women. She didn't know this place and she didn't know what they wanted from her. Explain what? They were meant to fill in the gaps for her!

"Charlie, love" the older woman said, "Where have you been?"

"Queensland," she replied slowly, moving out of Leah's grip.

"Were you in Witness Protection?"

"No," she said dumbly, "Why would I be?"

The two woman stared at her. Sophie took a deep breath and decided to jump right in, both feet, into the deep end. No floaties.

"You said something about Ruby. Do you know her? Do you know where she is? Where I can find her?"

"At the Caravan Park," Leah replied, glancing at the red head who had moved slowly to the front of the counter, over the fast melting ice-cream, to stand beside Leah.

"Darl," the red head started, "Does Ruby know you're coming?"

"Yeah, Charlie-"

"Sophie," she interrupted. "My name is Sophie."

She knew it wasn't. She felt that it wasn't. She knew her name was Charlie. There was something that felt right about being called Charlie. It fit but it was also so very wrong. She had been Sophie for so long and hearing Charlie over and over and over again was wrong. They knew her, they knew Charlie, but she didn't know them. All Sophie wanted was for it to all stop. She wanted to go back to the hotel and crawl beneath the covers with Phillip.

"They told me it was Sophie," She muttered to herself, talking to the ground.

"Mum!" a teenaged boy's voice called.

Sophie's head shot up and her eyes searched for the source of the sound.

"Have you forgotten about my pancakes? I'm starving, " the boy whined. Her eyes met that of a boy of about fourteen in a school uniform. He had light brown hair and a blue bag slung over his shoulder. He stared at her for a fraction of a second before letting out a frightened yell. "Holy fuck!'

"VJ!" Leah scolded.

"Sorry, Mum," he said reflexively, "But a dead woman is standing in the middle of the Diner!"

Leah and the red headed woman both began talking at once. Sophie stood there. Her world had slowed down. The boy's words reverberated though her head. She could see the boy moving towards her, gesturing wildly, and Leah cutting him off. They seemed to be moving in another time. She could hear words as though they were being yelled, while others were muffled and unintelligible. Ruby. Brax. Jake. Shot. Funeral. Before suddenly time speed up and slammed into her. She felt all the air leave her body in one harsh gasp.

"A what?" she whispered. Her whisper silenced the three people in front of her as effectively as a yell.

"A what?" she repeated, stronger and louder this time, determined to get an answer. To have the world make sense. She needed to hear them say it. Confirm it. Things had suddenly begun to fall into place but she wasn't willing to accept it. They couldn't have lied like that. That couldn't be why she had no friends, why no one had come looking for her. Why she felt uncontrollable urges to search the surf. Why she felt things that didn't make sense. Why she remembered things that she shouldn't and nothing that she should. But they wouldn't, surely. She had given her life to the police force, they wouldn't steal it from her.

"Charlie, love," the red head started, slowly, trepidation in her voice, "We all thought you died two years ago."

"No," Sophie argued. "You're lying to me. You don't know me. You're lying!" She tuned to run, flee, back to Queensland. Back to her flat with her Sunday morning walks and steady familiar life with Phillip. She didn't need this. She didn't need to find Ruby, she didn't need to know. She would just forget. Throw out her diary and forget.

She turned and ran into the barrel chest of an older man in a checked shirt and battered white hat.

"Stone the flamin' crows!"

.

.

Sophie was back, staring at herself in a mirror. This time in an unfamiliar house with a hoard of unfamiliar people downstairs waiting for her to be someone she couldn't remember. She looked at her face and steeled her shoulders.

"Charlie," she said, repeating it over and over again, trying to make it feel more like her own. She could be Charlie. "Charlie."

She made her way slowly down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly. She could hear voices travelling up to her. She paused a few steps from the bottom and just listened. She could see into part of the lounge and kitchen from where she stood. People were gathered around the island in the middle of the kitchen. Phillip was there too, standing next to a brunette in a long flowing dress.

There was the man with a barrel chest man, his hat now in his hands, a man with gapped teeth standing beside the woman in the loose dress. A second woman with blonde hair, tightly styled with full make up and bright strawberry shaped earrings dangling by her face, fluttered around them. A tall blonde young man in board shorts and a pale blue singlet rounded out the group.

She listened as Phillip talked to them, explaining her.

"A few things have starting coming back but she barely knows who she is let alone who all of you are!" He scratched his head and sighed. "To be honest, I thought she had made this whole place up. It goes against everything we've been told."

"The poor girl," the old man said.

"Oh, Mr. Stewart," the blonde woman chimed in. "Can you imagine waking up and having no idea who you are? That's horrible."

"Alright then," the brunette woman said, taking charge, "What can we do to help her?"

Phillip was about to answer but Sophie had had enough. She walked heavily down the last few steps making sure they heard her. They all stopped talking abruptly and turned to look at her. She stood in the door way, unwilling to make her way any further into the kitchen. Sophie smiled tightly at the group.

"Say something," she heard the gap toothed man whisper. The woman in the loose dresses slapped his stomach. The blonde woman with the perfect make up and beehive hairdo, made her way forward, tottering on her heels.

"Hello Charlie - sorry, Sophie," she pushed her hair away from her face. "I'm Marilyn and this is Roo," the woman in the loose dressed waved, "Hello," she said. Marilyn pointed to the man beside Roo. "And that's her husband Harvey, well they weren't married when you were - well," she laughed nervously, leaning forward slightly, "I mean even we can't believe they actually made it down the aisle, so you shouldn't feel bad if you can't-"

"Marilyn!"

"Sorry, sorry," Marilyn turned slightly, pointing to the man who had just scolded her, "And this is Mr. Stewart and Romeo." She smiled happily, finishing her introductions.

"Um, Leah?" Sophie asked. "She was here before."

"Oh, you remember Leah? That's wonderful!" Marilyn gushed.

"No," Sophie admitted, shaking her head. "She walked me over here."

"Oh right, right of course. How silly of me."

"She's gone to get Ruby," Roo offered. "Leah, I mean. Then she'll bring Ruby here so you can -meet, I guess," she laughed nervously.

"Okay, " Sophie said. "I might just…" she trailed off, pointing to the couch.

There was an awkward cacophony of yes's and of course's from the house's residents, paired with frantic gestures towards the couch.

"Of course," Marilyn continued after the others had fallen silent. "This must be so overwhelming for you. How about I make you a nice calamine tea, it'll help. Yes, tea."

Sophie smiled. Phillip made his way over and sat next to Sophie. He wrapped his around her shoulders.

"You doing okay?" he whispered.

Sophie shook her head. She leaned into his side, resting her hand on his thigh. "It'll be okay," he assured her, giving her forehead a quick kiss.

.

In the kitchen Marilyn was fussing around with the tea, as Romeo , Roo, Harvey and Alf stood huddled together, whispering.

"Marilyn," Alf barked as she bustled past him. "Would you stop flapping around like a blue arsed fly and calm down. She doesn't want any flamin' tea!"

Marilyn's bottom lip quivered.

"Oh for Pete's sake, Marilyn."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stewart, but it's just so sad! How could they do that? Lie about her dying. She could have been here with Ruby and Brax, but instead she was all alone."

Alf wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "You're a good woman, Marilyn."

"Speaking of Brax," Romeo interrupted. "Does he know Charlie's back? Has anyone told him?"

.

.

.

"G'day, Irene," Heath said as he walked into the Diner with Rocco smiling happily on his shoulders. "Me and the little man here are after some pancakes."

"Morning love," Irene sad with a smile before her smile fell and the mug she had in her hand clattered to the counter in her rush to get closer to the Diner's latest customer.

"Careful there, Irene," Heath warned with a grin. "Those don't grow on trees."

"Oh, God, Love, you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

.

.

.

Heath rushed into Brax's, bursting through the door, with Rocco tucked under his arm. Rocco cried at the speed and noise, unhappy with his father.

Brax was sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop with a piece of toast beside him. He looked up surprised at Heath's entrance.

"Whoa," he said standing up and scooping Rocco out of his brother's arms. Brax smiled at the boy as his cries turned to hiccups as his uncle held him.

"What's your big lump of a dad, doing to ya, aye?"

"Mate," Heath started. "It's Buckton."

.

.

.

"Where is she?" Ruby ran through the Caravan Park, hurtling towards the main house.

"Ruby, wait!" Leah yelled, close behind. "Wait you need to let me explain."  
"She's my mother! You can't stop me from seeing her!"

"I'm not trying to," Leah tried, grasping Ruby's arm and pulling her to a stop. "But you need to listen. There are things you need to know, to understand. Your mum was hurt very badly and-"

"No!" Ruby yelled and pulled away from Leah.

She burst into the front room of the house, out of breath and with a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. The door slammed back behind her, its hinges over worked and the door crashed into the wall.

Sophie looked up from the couch and pulled herself to her feet. Phillip stood up behind her staring at the wild hair and wild eyed young woman who suddenly commanded the attention of the room.

"Charlie!" Ruby cried. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Charlie.

"Ruby," Sophie breathed, her arms coming up automatically to return the embrace.

Ruby held on tightly to Charlie, afraid that if she let go, her mother would disappear from her life again. "Oh, God, Charlie, I missed you so much."

Marilyn sniffled at the scene.

"I missed you too, Rubes."

Sophie cradled her daughter, feeling content. She had her daughter, her family back. She wouldn't have to wake up in the middle of the night, missing her or struggle to picture her face, she was right there in her arms.

Ruby pulled back, releasing the embrace but holding Charlie's hand, afraid to break their physical connection after so long apart.

"Charlie, where have you been?" Ruby began, before firing off question after question in quick succession. "Why are your back now? Why didn't you come home sooner? Was it Witness Protection? Why didn't you tell me?"

Sophie stared at her gobsmacked. She didn't know where to start.

"Um," Sophie said, "Phillip and I," she pointed back to Phillip who Ruby hadn't noticed in her rush to be with her mother. "Live in Queensland. I've lived there for almost three years."

"What?" Ruby asked confused. "You've only been gone two!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sophie said, "I'm not really sure of the timeline."

"Not sure of the time line?" Ruby repeated. "What does that even mean?"

"Maybe you better sit down, love," Alf started.

"No! I'm fine. What do you mean?" She demanded.

Sophie's eyes flicked back to Phillip helplessly and he stepped forward towards Ruby. Ruby looked at him suspiciously, trying to read his face.

"Ruby," Phillip said softly, trying to explain the situation gently. "Your mum has amnesia. Her life before the accident is a bit of a mystery to her at the moment, but-"

"Amnesia? Are you kidding me?" Ruby dropped Charlie's hand and folded her arms defensively across her chest. Charlie felt the sudden loss of contact acutely. Her hand felt cold and heavy without Ruby's.

"Ruby-"

"No!" Ruby shouted. "Do you even know who I am?" her voice broke as she spoke, tears of anger and sorrow tracing the same path down her cheeks where tears of happiness had flowed moments before.

"You're Ruby," Charlie said definitely. "You're my daughter."

Ruby nodded, her eyes boring into her mother's. "How old am I?"

Charlie couldn't meet Ruby's eyes. She shook her head lightly and looked at the ground.

"Charlie," Ruby searched her mother's face, trying to force her to meet her eyes. "How old am I?" she repeated. Sophie didn't answer. "What's my middle name?"

"I don't know," she whispered finally.

"Ruby," Phillip interrupted. "You just need to give Sophie some time."  
"Sophie?" Ruby screeched. "Her name is Charlie. Charlie! Do you hear me? Charlie!" Ruby meet Sophie's eyes again, searching them for some flicker of recognition, willing her to prove she knew more about her than just her name.

"I'm sorry I can't do this."

"No, Rubes, wait," Sophie pleaded, reaching desperately for her daughter's hand.

"Don't call me that!" Ruby wrenched her arm away, causing Sophie to lose her balance slightly. Phillip gripped her waist, steadying her as Ruby fled the house in tears.

"I'll go," Leah said, following a distraught Ruby out the door.

Sophie watched her go silently. Everyone stared at Sophie waiting for her reaction. She could feel their eyes on her. Not sure what to say. Feeling sorry for her. They were like everyone she had met since the accident, watching her for her reaction so they could gauge their own.

"I think I need some air," Sophie said.

"I'll come with you," Phillip offered.

"No!" Sophie said, moving away from Phillip and towards the kitchen. "I just need to be alone for a minute. I'll just be outside."

Alf, Romeo and Harvey moved hurriedly aside as Sophie walked through the kitchen and outside, leaving them to stand together awkwardly by the fridge and try to absorb the events of the past hour.

"Poor Ruby," Marilyn sympathised, "Imagine your own mother not knowing you."

"It's not Sophie's fault," Phillip snapped. "Do you have any idea how hard she worked to get here?"

"Oh no," Marilyn said, shocked and back tracking hurriedly. "I didn't mean that at all."

"Then what did you mean?"

Sophie stood outside with her eyes closed, listening to them talk about her. Again. Phillip was taking offence and defending her. Yelling at them. She had heard enough. Sophie walked slowly away from the house, down a scrub and caravan lined path. The further she got away from the house the calmer she felt. She could concentrate on simply putting one foot in front of the other.

She stopped a little way from the house. She had to go back at some point, she supposed, there was no point running away. Besides she wanted to be close by in case Ruby came back. She was home, she could feel it, she belonged in this place. Maybe not here exactly, with these people, but with Ruby. Here in Summer Bay, she belonged. She pushed the palm of her hands into her eye sockets rubbing at them harshly. So why couldn't she remember?

"Charlie?"

She looked up at the sound of her name, running her hands back over her forehead and through her hair. Her arms dropped to her side as she meet his eyes. She couldn't help but smile as she saw him, blue jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

He was just staring at her like she was a mirage.

"Hi," she offered and without warning he surged forward, encasing her in a warm, hard hug. She could feel his arms lock around her, one at her waist and the other looped around her neck and shoulders. He was holding her to him so tightly that his fingers dug almost painfully into her.

Sophie wrapped her arms around him, her hands coming to rest up towards his shoulder blades. She stood on tip toe and buried her face into his shoulder taking a long moment to register the way he felt and smelled. She felt him kiss her neck, smelt the lingering scent of salt on his skin, and heard him repeating her name. She gripped him harder and he responded by pulling her closer to him again, her body enveloped and almost consumed by his.

"Sophie?" a worried voice called. "Sophie!"

.

.

So what did you think? Let me know in a review.

More to come soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Tabula Rasa**

_Heath rushed into Brax's, bursting through the door, with Rocco tucked under his arm. Rocco cried at the speed and noise, unhappy with his father._

_Brax was sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop with a piece of toast beside him. He looked up surprised at Heath's entrance. _

_"Whoa," he said standing up and scooping Rocco out of his brother's arms. Brax smiled at the boy as his cries turned to hiccups as his uncle held him._

_"What's your big lump of a dad, doing to ya, aye?"_

_"Mate," Heath started. "It's Buckton."_

.

.

Brax made to leave the house before Heath had finishing explaining. Heath grabbed his brother's arm, trying to hold him back while struggling to keep a wriggling Rocco steady.

"Mate, maybe you should leave it. Just for a while."

Brax shook Heath's hand off easily and slammed the door as he raced out of the house.

"Your uncle's a boofhead," Heath told his son.

.

.

Brax drove to the Caravan Park in a daze. He had pulled into a park and was half out the car before the keys were out of the ignition.

He paused as he jogged down the path. She was there. Right in front of him for the first time in nearly two years she was standing there. He could just about reach out and touch her. Her hair was shorter than he remembered and a light golden brown. She was wearing a floral dress that fell around her knees with a white cardigan hiding her shoulders. She looked different. The pastel dress was at odds with the Charlie he remembered. She hadn't noticed him, consumed with her own troublesome thoughts. She rubbed her eyes and ran her hands roughly through her hair.

"Charlie."

She looked up at him in surprised. She stared at him blankly for a moment before a soft, relieved smile swept across her face and brightened her eyes.

"Hi," she said.

The sound of her voice broke him. The single word slammed into him and he felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. She was real. Her voice was the same. Her clothes, face, the way she stood, leaning to the right, her left hand curled into a fist by her side, was all different, but her voice sounded the same.

He couldn't stand it any longer, being so close and not touching her was agony. He stepped forward, watching her lean towards him and he caught her body in his arms. He buried his head into her neck, holding her tightly. She felt the same as she always did in his arms, raising herself to fit comfortably against him. She smelt the same too. The same perfume as always wafted towards him and she could have been gone two minutes rather than two years for all the emotion he felt. He felt it all rush back in an instant, his emotions battling for dominance within him. The pain of losing her, mixed horribly with the joy of having her in his life was tinged with guilt for not having know, for not looking for her. All he could do was say her name, the word falling from his lips over and over again without his consent.

"Charlie," he whispered but suddenly felt her begin to pull away from him as another voice reached his ears.

"Sophie?" a worried voice yelled. "Sophie!"

Charlie released Brax and he reluctantly let her move away and turn her body from his. Her back was to him.

"I'm here," she called. A man with brown curly hair, dressed in dark blue jeans and a light purple dress shirt, hurried over to them. Brax felt a surge of jealously as the man ran a heavily tattooed hand down Charlie's arm. His Charlie.

"I was worried," the man said.

"Sorry," Charlie replied, he eyes down cast, "I just needed some space."

The man nodded understandingly. Brax wanted to hit him.

The man looked at Brax with a smile, holding his hand out. "Phillip," he said, "Sophie's boyfriend."

Brax felt his heart plummet to his feet and a lump formed in his throat. Heath had warned him but this guy, this no one, was standing in front of him, calling her Sophie and claiming her as his. It hurt.

"Oh right, sorry," Charlie said flustered. "Phillip, this is…um…" she trailed off, she looked at him, searching his face.

"Brax," he offered, reaching out and grasping Phillip's hand a tad too tightly.

"Right, Brax," Charlie repeated with a stiff smile.

"Well it's nice to meet you," Phillip said happily. He stood close to Charlie, who was standing uncomfortably between them. Her eyes flicked from Brax to Phillip quickly, as if afraid something was going to happen. Her right hand was held slightly out as if ready to stop Brax from moving forward. They stood there quietly, a standoff of tight smiles.

"I should get going," Brax said, finally, breaking first, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

"You could stay," Charlie said quickly. "Marilyn's making tea," she finished lamely.

"Nah," Brax said. "I'm not much of a tea man."

Phillip laughed.

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Charlie tried, reaching out for him but stopping just short of touching him.

"Nah, work. I'll see ya round."

"Oh…okay."

Brax took a few steps backwards before turning on his heel and walking away from Charlie and her boyfriend. He glanced back over his shoulder and was meet by the picture of her being lead away. Phillip's hand wrapped around hers, her arm outstretched, walking a few steps behind Phillip, her head turned, watching Brax's retreating back. He couldn't help but shoot her a wry smile and raised his hand into the air in a half hearted wave.

She didn't smile back at him, just watched him as she was pulled in the opposite direction. He stood there, his eyes locked with hers until she disappeared around a bend in the path.

Brax turned and punched a tree.

.

.

.

Ruby fell to her knees in the sand, her chest heaving. Snot was mixing with thick, salty tears. She gasped for air and looked out at the sea, her vision so blurred with tears that all she saw were mixed hues of blue and yellow.

"Ruby!" Leah called, rushing down the beach. "Ruby."

Ruby whipped her head around, her eyes falling on the small woman who had been a surrogate mother to her for the past two years. Ruby couldn't stand it. She crawled to her feet and took off down the beach, struggling in the soft sand.

She kept running until her legs ached and her lungs burned, her hiccupping tears stealing her stamina. She turned up the ramp, her feet moving faster as she moved from sand to grass to cement. She burst into the Surf Club, pushing past an irate John Palmer to the take the stairs two at a time up to Angelo's.

She was halfway into the restaurant before she noticed Brax was sitting in one of the booths, a bottle of bourbon on the set table and a half full tumbler in his hand. He drained the amber liquid in one gulp as Ruby came to stand in front of him.

Ruby looked at him, suddenly taken back in time. His eyes were blank and his movements were slightly dulled by alcohol. He picked up the bottle of bourbon, pouring himself a large drink before splashing the bourbon into the bottom of the water glass. He pushed it towards Ruby.

She slipped into the booth beside him with deep, gasping breaths and reached out with shaking hands to clasp the glass. Raising the glass to her mouth with two hands, she took a slow sip. Her face scrunched involuntarily at the taste. They sat together at the table, not touching, not speaking, not even looking at each other, until Ruby's breathing had slowed and Brax's glass was empty again.

"She doesn't remember me, Brax," Ruby whispered.

Brax looked at her carefully. "But that's not really true, aye."

"I stood there right in front of her and all she knew was my name," Ruby said, her voice rising and tears beginning to choke her again. "She couldn't tell me anything about-"

"Nah, Nah, Rubes," Brax interrupted firmly. "You're missing the point. She's _here._"

"And?"

"They told her her name was Sophie and she lived in Queensland and she's here." Brax poured himself another drink. He raised it to his face, pointing to Ruby in the same movement. "She came looking for you. You, she remembers."

Ruby sat there with silent tears still flowing and took another small sip.

"You're the only bloody thing she's sure of."

.

.

Liam gave Brax a ride home from Angelo's before the lunch rush began, palming Ruby off to Leah who Ruby finally, begrudgingly allowed near her.

Liam helped a stumbling Brax to the door, before half carrying him to the couch. He got him a bottle of water from the fridge and sat on the coffee table while Brax lay sprawled out on the couch. Liam hung his head and let out a deep breath.

"Mate, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't. Just…piss off."

"Alright then." Liam slapped his thighs and stood up slowly. He knew better than to take offence. He was just about to close the door when Brax stopped him.

"Liam, I…thanks - for the lift."

Liam nodded. "If you need anything."

"Won't."

Liam shook his head but closed the door behind him anyway.

Brax hauled himself off the couch and careened towards the kitchen, knocking over a chair as he made his way to the fridge. He pulled out a beer and chucked the bottle top towards the sink before flopping back on the couch.

.

.

.

Sophie sat on the edge of their bed at The Sands and stared at the carpet. Phillip was buzzing around but Sophie couldn't make out what he was saying

The carpet was a simple off white with a round green rug in front of the TV. The rug had swirls of colour through it, reminiscent of a sixties lava lamp. The swirls held Sophie's attention and she followed them around and around again, trying to keep her mind occupied.

She didn't want to think. She was trying to drown out the image of Ruby's face, falling and shattering as she realised she couldn't remember her. Drown out the sound of her voice demanding her age and name. Her voice rising and cracking before Sophie could muster back more than a whisper as Ruby's throat chocked with tears and she ran. Trying to drown out the smell of salt water and after shave and the feeling of being enveloped by strong, familiar arms that felt deceptively like home.

"Soph? Soph?" Phillip pulled her from her thoughts of a botched mother daughter reunion and a hug that was worth more than she could explain.

"Hmm?" Sophie, looked up at Phillip. He was standing in front of her, his arms crossed across his chest, looking worriedly down at her.

"I asked whether you wanted to go out for lunch or just order room service?"

Sophie glanced at her watch. It was thick and white with a large face. It wrapped around her wrist like a cuff, almost overwhelming her small wrist.

Twelve o'clock the face read, the curling silver numbers taunting her.

Was it only twelve o'clock? Sophie felt like she could sleep for a week the morning had sucked so much energy from her.

"Room service, " she said definitively, "I need a rest."

Phillip sat down beside her and clasped her hand in his, drawing their joined hands to his lap.

"At least you know the truth now," he said gently. "You can start putting everything back together…and maybe Ruby can come back to Queensland with us for a while so you two can spend some time together."

Sophie stared at him for a moment before detangling her hand from his. "I'm going to have a shower."

.

.

.

That afternoon Natalie arrived at Brax's annoyed he had stood her up. He was the one who had arranged the coffee date and he had stood her up!

She fished her keys from her bag and let herself in. She was greeted by the sight of Heath propping a very drunk Brax up with pillows and trying to keep an ice pack on Brax's blood encrusted hand.

"Oh my God," Natalie exclaimed, her keys dangling from the door. She rushed to Brax's side. "What happened?" she asked Heath.

"Long story," Heath replied evasively.

"That resulted in Brax writing himself off? And what happened to his hand?"

"Beats me." Heath shrugged. " I came back from dropping Rocco off at Irene's and he was already like this."

"I can hear you, you know," Brax slurred, dislodging the pillows Heath had just arranged around him and narrowly missing kicking Natalie in the face as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position. "I have to go back," he said.

"Whoa," Natalie and Heath said simultaneously, pushing Brax back down.

"You need to go back where?" Natalie asked gently, trying to coax Brax into coherency.

"Caravan Park."

"And what's so important at the Caravan Park?"

"Oh boy," Heath said, rubbing his forehead and earning a quick glare from Natalie.

"Charlie," Brax said, "And Philip," he spat, thrusting his injured hand out.

"What is he talking about?" Natalie asked Heath as Brax hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. "And who are Charlie and Phillip?"

Heath took a deep breath. "Turns out Buckton isn't as dead as we all thought," Heath said without a trace of delicacy. "Iron man over here went over there, met her new boyfriend and punched a tree."

.

.

.

Inspector Joyce sat in his office, leaning back in his chair, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. From a distance he would have seemed relaxed but his knuckles were white and his teeth were clenched.

"Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?" he fumed. "How could Senior Sergeant Buckton recovering memories of her daughter not be relevant?" he paused, listening to the reply. "Well obviously you haven't had a handle on the situation if she and Phillip Gilbert have checked into the Sands…No, lad, this could destroy all of us."

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**A shorter chapter than the last couple but I wanted to get it up as my holidays are almost over so my update rate might slow down again. :/ I do have most of the next chapter ready to go thanks to my handwriting extravaganza but it's still a bit away from postable. **

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews and keep them coming! They are a great source of inspiration and I am grateful to each and every person who has taken (and will hopefully continue to take!) the time to write one.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Tabula Rasa**

_Charlie," Brax said, "And Philip," he spat, thrusting his injured hand out._

_"What is he talking about?" Natalie asked Heath as Brax hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. "And who are Charlie and Phillip?"_

_Heath took a deep breath. "Turns out Buckton isn't as dead as we all thought," Heath said without a trace of delicacy. "Iron man over here went over there, met her new boyfriend and punched a tree."_

_._

_Phillip sat down beside her and clasped her hand in his, drawing their joined hands to his lap._

_"At least you know the truth now," he said gently. "You can start putting everything back together…and maybe Ruby can come back to Queensland with us for a while so you two can spend some time together."_

_Sophie stared at him for a moment before detangling her hand from his. "I'm going to have a shower."_

_._

.

Phillip awoke to the sound of a soft tapping at the hotel door. He felt Sophie getting up slowly, her side of the quilt falling lightly on him. He rolled over with a whine, burying his head in the pillows.

"What time is it?" His voice was muffled by the pillows and the fabric scratched against his mouth.

"Just past seven," Sophie replied with laughter in her voice. She was much more of a morning person than Phillip was.

Phillip groaned again and pulled the sheet up over his head, hiding as artificial light bored into his still sleep ridden eyes. He heard the light swishing of fabric as she threw on her dressing gown.

"Ruby!"

Phillip's head shot up. He was in his underwear in bed. Sophie's daughter was here and he was in his underwear in bed. _Crap_.

"I'm sorry for barging in so early," Ruby said, wringing her hands in front of her. "But I couldn't sleep knowing you were here and I wasn't."

"That's okay," Sophie assured her. "I wasn't asleep anyway." Sophie ushered her inside, pushing his suitcase out the way to make a bigger path for Ruby to walk through.

"I was," Phillip muttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position. He propped himself up with pillows against the headboard. Sophie glared at him briefly but was too wrapped up in Ruby to take much notice of him. Ruby's eyes flicked over him. She ran her eyes down his arm, noting the intricate sleeve of tattoos that snaked down from his shoulder to fingertips.

"Did you want a tea or coffee?" Sophie offered Ruby, moving to their room's small kitchen. "Or we have orange juice or a really small packet of cornflakes or Rice Bubbles?"

"No, thanks, I'm fine."

"Coco pops?"

Ruby smiled. "So still can't cook, huh?"

Phillip snorted. Sophie glared at him. "There was an incident with a Crème Broulee torch that we won't go into now."

"Crème Broulee?" Ruby repeated, sceptically, her eye brows raised. "You made a Crème Broulee."

"No, Phillip made the Crème Broulee. He's a really good cook." Sophie gestured towards him with a smile.

They stood in awkward silence. Phillip watched as Ruby glanced at him and then back to Sophie, raising her eyebrows significantly at him. Sophie looked at him, raised her eyebrows and Phillip found himself staring at two identical expressions.

"I should go have a shower,"he said. He pulled the sheet from his body, but hesitated before getting up. He glanced at Ruby and then down at legs. He wrapped the sheet around his waist, awkwardly bouncing on the bed to make sure his arse was fully covered. He riffled through his suitcase, picking a change of clothes for himself. He could feel Sophie and Ruby's eyes on him, waiting impatiently for him to leave the room.

He closed the door behind him, leaning heavily on the wood. He let out a deep breath. He hadn't imagined Ruby to be so old. If anything, he had expected to find a child not an adult. Phillip hadn't ever given too much thought to Sophie's life before they met. Her life before the accident was a mystery. Sure, he had helped her try and retrieve her memories, participating in all the techniques and therapy sessions that were supposed to help. He was hypnotised with Sophie once. Well, he had been hypnotised, Sophie had resisted every step of the way and not allowed herself to be put under. The hypnotherapist had said she was holding too tightly to control for her to be able to access any latent memories.

She was just Sophie to Phillip. His Sophie. But here was Ruby. A young woman who stared at Sophie with such longing. He wasn't an idiot. He had seen the way Sophie had looked at Ruby too. He had never seen Sophie happier. Her smile seemed to exude a brightness he had never seen before that was able to overtake her whole body. There was a tenseness that Sophie carried with her that seemed to dissipate the second Ruby had come into that room. But it made him wonder. If Ruby could change something about her so quickly, if Ruby was just one piece of the puzzle she was missing, what else would they find here?

It sounded selfish to think it. He didn't want to be thinking it but he couldn't help it. He knew it was selfish, but he didn't want Sophie recovering too many memories. She was his. He loved Sophie. He had fallen in love with her over a year ago in a tiny hospital room. She was so fragile and yet so determined that he couldn't help but be swayed by her. She was the love of his life and Summer Bay was going to chip away at the woman he loved until she wasn't there any longer. Until all that remained would be Charlie.

Phillip wondered whether Charlie would love him. He wanted her to love him. He loved Sophie. He knew Sophie and he wanted her to get everything she wanted from this town and its people, but he couldn't lose her. He didn't know what he would do without her. Without Sophie he would still be withering away in some crappy apartment feeling sorry for himself. Sophie had pulled him out of a deep, dark hole and given him a reason to keep going. She was the love of his life and it scared him to think that maybe the love of his life was all just a illusion.

.

.

.

Charlie and Ruby watched as Phillip disappeared into the bathroom. Charlie turned back to Ruby with a nervous smile. She opened her mouth to say something but Ruby got there first, rushing forward.

"Charlie, I am so sorry about yesterday," Ruby said almost frantically.

"Hey, hey," Charlie said, rubbing her hands down Ruby's arms comfortingly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. It must have been overwhelming."

"I just missed you so much," she said, tears beginning to fall.

"I missed you too," Charlie said with tears streaming down her cheeks as well. Charlie reached forward and wrapped her arms around Ruby. They stood wrapped in each other's arms for a moment before Ruby broke the hug, shaking her head and wiping her eyes.

"No, no more tears," she scolded. She sat on the edge of the bed and Charlie moved to follow her. Ruby pulled her bag off her shoulder and delved into it. Charlie watched her silently as she pulled out a thick photo album. Ruby gave her a watery smile.

"I figured if you didn't remember me, I was just going to have to remind you who I am. So," she stated, a large smile beginning to cover her face. It didn't quite reach her eyes but a determined spark did. Ruby flipped open the album and shoved it onto Charlie's lap. "My name is Ruby Buckton. I am 20 years old and you are my mother."

.

.

Phillip exited the bathroom to find Charlie and Ruby laying on the bed going through a photo album. Ruby was telling a story about her tenth birthday party and Phillip couldn't help but smile at Sophie's tinkering laughter.

Sophie looked up at him as he walked over, his hair longer with the weight of the water. He rubbed the towel through his hair and then draped it over the back of a chair. "So do you two want to go out for breakfast?" he asked. "My shout."

Sophie hesitated, looking at Ruby. She opened her mouth to reply but Ruby cut in before Sophie got her answer out. "You go," she said, dismissively. "I've still got another ten years of my life with Charlie to get through and my memories are much better after my tenth birthday."

"Are you sure?" Phillip asked, looking directly at Sophie. He wanted her to come to breakfast with him. He wanted Ruby to come to breakfast with them.

"You go," Sophie said, surprising Phillip. She didn't often refuse him. "Ruby and I have some catching up to do."

Ruby gave him a smug smile. "Oh, Charlie, this is Dad when he went through his moustache stage."

.

.

Ruby flipped another page and pointed to a picture of herself and Charlie. Part of her thought that if she could just remind her of one thing, bring out one memory then the rest would follow and she would have her mother back.

"So who's that?" Charlie asked, pointing to a picture of herself and a young man at her graduation from the police academy. She was standing there with a bright smile in a neatly pressed uniform. The young man had his arm wrapped around her waist and had his arm in the air ready to throw his hat in the air.

Ruby looked closely at the photo and her face fell. "I don't know," she said softly. "I'm so sorry I don't know."

"No, hey, that's fine," Charlie said with a smile. "He can't be too important if you don't know who he is, right?"

"But I'm meant to be able to tell you all about everyone and I have no idea who he is!"

Ruby looked at Charlie's smiling face and felt like screaming. This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was all meant to go.

"It's fine, really," Charlie said with a small laugh, "I've got no idea either."

Ruby's face crumbled and she scooted off the bed, staring at Charlie in horror. "How can you say that?" Ruby cried, hysteria colouring her voice. "How can you just say it like its nothing?"

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, climbing off the bed and standing in front of Ruby. She didn't have the confidence to move any closer to her so they stood about two metres apart, staring at each other. Ruby's cheeks were wet with tears and her eyes shone with those yet unshed. Her breath was coming in short, heavy breaths as she looked at Charlie expectantly.

"I've been living it for two years now it feels almost normal," Charlie admitted softly. She shrugged her shoulders, helplessly.

Ruby moved towards Charlie slowly and for a moment Charlie thought she was going to give her a hug, but instead she moved past Charlie and sat down on the bed. She looked up at Charlie strangely like she was trying to dissect her. Charlie shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"I don't understand how any of this happened." she said, staring directly at Charlie. "Brax and I watched you die."

Charlie flinched. "I don't know,' she answered feebly. "I guess they thought they were doing what was best for all of us."

Ruby scoffed. "How was us thinking you were dead the best thing for us?"

Charlie shrugged. She sat down beside Ruby and put on a smile. "But that doesn't matter now. All that matters is that I'm here and that you and I are together. The way it should be."

"With Phillip," Ruby said raising her eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked guardedly.

"You came here with him. Introduced him as your boyfriend," Ruby explained. "Do you love him?"

Charlie struggled to find the words to respond. She shifted uncomfortably, tightening the tie of her dressing gown. "Phillip was there for me when I had no one," she said not meeting Ruby's eyes. "He is very special to me."

Ruby nodded. "I should get going."

"No! Stay a bit longer," Charlie pleaded.

"No, I should go. Let you have breakfast and get dressed, but maybe we could have lunch tomorrow and I can tell you all about yourself?" Ruby said hopefully, smiling brightly at Charlie.

"That sounds good," Charlie smiled.

"Good. Its settled. One o'clock at Angelo's tomorrow."

.

.

.

Phillip poked his head into the hotel room expecting to see Charlie and Ruby bonding on the bed, laughing, crying. He briefly considered a pillow fight. But he was greeted with an all together different sight.

Sophie was curled up in the arm chair in the corner of the room, staring out towards the black screen of the TV. They had a beautiful sea side view but she ignored it. Her hair was wet. Limp dark strands fell down around her face. She was dressed in a simple blue dress with white polka dots.

She looked up as he came into the room.

"Ruby not here?"

"No," Sophie said sadly. "She had to get going."

Phillip sighed. He walked over and sat on the arm of the chair. Sophie bowed her head into his side.

"She keeps running away from me," Sophie told him. " Every time I open my mouth I say the wrong thing."

"I'm sure she just needs a little time. It's a big shock for her." He played with her hair, pulling his fingers through the wet strands and pushing them behind her ear. "We could pop round to the Caravan Park tomorrow and see her," he suggested.

"We're having lunch tomorrow at Angelo's," she said blankly. "At one."

"See!" Phillip said, trying to muster up enough excitement for the both of them. "She wants to see you."

"In the smallest interval possible because I'm not the person she wants me to be."

"That's not true," Phillip barked. Sophie raised her head, startled by his harsh tone. "That girl-that young woman," he corrected, "is just as confused as you are because you are the most amazing woman. She _will _see that."

"I hope so."

.

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.

"What if she hates me?" Bianca fretted, turning suddenly and almost making Heath bump into her with Rocco's pram as they walked through The Sand's car park.

"She won't hate you," Heath assured her. "She won't even know who you are!"

Bianca glared at him. "Oh my God! What if she does remember me? What if I stand there and all she can remember is how I treated her before she died?"

"She won't."

"How do you know?" Bianca pleaded, stomping her foot lightly and gripping Heath's singlet.

"Look," Heath said with an exasperated sigh, "The only way to know how Buckton will react to seeing you is to go see her. But from what Brax and Irene have said, it seems pretty unlikely that you will be the one thing she remembers."

"I'm her best friend!" Bianca defended indignantly.

"She can't remember her own daughter! Or Brax!" Heath said incredulously. "God, you're a princess."

"I am not," Bianca whined.

"Come on," Heath said, wrapping his arms around Bianca's waist. He gave her a quick kiss and nuzzled her nose with his. "It'll all be fine."

Bianca sighed and wrapped her arms around Heath giving him a small thankful smile.

"Now come on," Heath commanded, giving her arse a swift slap to get her moving.

"You are such a pig."

"Hey, no insults in front of the kid!"

**.**

**.**

Brax's head was still pounding the next afternoon as he pulled into the Surf Club car park. He was just coming in to collect some paper work and then he was going home to crawl under his pillow and die.

"John," Brax greeted as he walked into the Surf Club.

"Brax!" John said nervously, promptly dumping the rag and Windex he was using on the nearest table. He rushed over to him, blocking Brax's path to the stairs. "I heard about- well you know- about the whole…situation." Brax raised his eyebrows as John continued to stumble over his words. "What I mean is if there's anything Gina or I can do just-"

"Yep, yep, I will, John," Brax cut him off. "Look mate, I gotta-" He pointed towards Angelo's. "Joint doesn't run itself."

"Right, right of course," John said as Brax pushed past him. "Just remember that the offer still stands," John called after him.

John blew out a strong breath as Brax waved a dismissive hand and headed up the stairs. "That went well," he muttered to himself.

Brax should have know. He had lived in small towns his entire life. He should have known that by now everyone knew that Charlie was back. He should have expected it to be front page of today's paper. But he didn't. For some reason he thought that he would have some time to process this before everyone else jumped on board. His whole world had suddenly been turned on its head and unfortunately, for him though no one else was going to let him stop and stare at the carnage for more than a second. They were going to drag him along with them.

"Brax," Liam said, surprised to see Brax at the restaurant, or standing at all for that matter. "How are you feeling?"

"Excellent," Brax replied, snippily. "How about you?" Brax stalked past Liam and behind the bar. He fished through the papers near the till, before checking the night's bookings.

"Right, sorry. Stupid question."

Brax didn't respond. He disappeared into the office for a few minutes and came out with a handful of papers and a thick blue folder. He nodded to Liam as he made to leave, not wanting to engage in any form of conversation. Liam, however, had other ideas.

"Brax," he called out across the restaurant. Brax turned on his heel, coming back to stand in front of the bar. He loomed over it, his arms outspread and his hands resting on the bar.

"What?"

"Have you seen her at all today?"

"Nup."

"Are you going to go see her?"

"Nup. Why?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, no reason. Just I know that Bianca is heading over there with Rocco so I thought maybe you would be too."

"What's the point?" Brax said as he turned to leave again. "She doesn't have a bloody clue who I am."

.

.

.

"Ooh, I can't do it," Bianca whimpered as she stood outside Charlie's room at The Sands.

Heath rolled his eyes at her, stepped forward and thumped on the door. "There," he said, taking a step back and smiling triumphantly.

"Heath!" Bianca stared at him in horror. Her attention snapped back in front of her as the door opened and a man greeted them with a smile. "Hi," Bianca said brightly, "You must be Phillip."

"I am," he said cautiously. "What can I do for you."

"We're not looking for you, mate," Heath said tiredly. "We're here for Buckton."

Bianca's arm snaked out and slapped Heath in the stomach, silencing him. She looked at him incredulously. "Really?" she asked. Heath shrugged.

Bianca began to apologise for Heath's demeanour but trailed off as Charlie appeared behind Philip's shoulder. Bianca fumbled over her words, before her hand flew to her mouth to mask a choking cry that escaped her.

"Oh my God, Charlie. It's really you," she breathed. She stared at Charlie with a happy, watery smile. She bustled past Phillip and wrapped her arms around Charlie. Charlie stood there and patted Bianca on the back, returning the hug half heartedly.

"Sorry," Bianca said as she pulled away. She wiped her tears from her eyes, swiping her fingers under her eyes to stop her mascara from running. "It's just so good to see you."

"Yeah," Heath agreed. "Looking good, Buckton."

"Thanks," Charlie said softly, lightly scrunching her face in confusion. She shot Bianca a wry smile.

"I don't mean to be rude," Phillip interrupted from beside the door. Heath was still standing in the corridor with Rocco's pram. "But who are you?"

Bianca looked slightly affronted by Phillip's blunt question and stared at him for a moment.

"I'm Heath," Heath offered, waving his hand in the air. "This handsome guy is our son Rocco and that's Bianca," he said pointing inside the hotel room, "She's Buckton's best mate." He crossed his arms across his chest, making sure his muscles were pushed up slightly. He was looking Phillip directly in the eye, his tone hard and matter-of-fact. He took a step towards Phillip, looking him up and down. "Who the hell are you?"

Bianca laughed loudly, shooting Heath a glare. "I'm sorry about Heath," she said nervously. "He was clearly raised by wolves."

"Don't worry about it," Charlie said, looking at Heath oddly. Her eyes fell on his tattoos, taking in the grenade on his neck and the pattern etched in black on his arm and upper chest.

Phillip eyed Heath carefully, and blocked him from entering the room completely. He crossed his arms across his chest, trying to puff out his chest. Heath raised his eyebrows at the display and smiled mockingly.

"Maybe you should come back later," Phillip suggested calmly. "Sophie's had a hard morning."

"I'd like to see you try and make me move."

"Heath," Bianca hissed.

"I'm okay, Phillip. They can stay." Charlie said, ignoring Heath. Bianca turned quickly back to face Charlie, her eyes eager and movements slightly choppy from nerves. "We were close?"

"Yes," Bianca said energetically. "Really close. You're my best friend."

"Do you want a drink?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, yes, sure! I'd love one."

"Maybe another time," a voice interrupted from the hallway.

Charlie and Bianca turned to the voice, while Phillip and Heath broke their staring contest to acknowledge the newcomer.

"Mr. Braxton," he greeted distrustfully, as he slipped past Heath into the room. "My name is Senior Inspector Joyce," he said addressing Charlie. He held his hat under his arm and stood sternly in the room. A second, younger officer with sandy blonde hair stood in the hallway, his hands grasped tightly behind his back. "Perhaps you and Mr. Gilbert would like to accompany me down to the station."

.

.

.

"What is wrong with you?" Bianca hissed as she powered through The Sand's car park with Heath hot on her heels. "What were you thinking? The first time I see her in two years and you stand there and have a pissing contest with her boyfriend?"

Heath reached out and grabbed her elbow. She turned and slapped his hand from her, wagging her finger in his face. "Don't you dare touch me. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?"

"Well maybe she won't remember."

"She has amnesia not short term memory issues, Heath!" Bianca grabbed the handles of Rocco's pram from Heath and stormed away from him. "You are unbelievable."

Rocco gurgled happily, enjoying the racing speeds. Bianca cursed under her breath in Italian.

Heath sighed and let her get a little way ahead of him before he dropped his head and jogged after her. He yelled her name and ran to stand in front of her, blocking her path. Bianca refused to meet his eyes. She tried to get around him but he grabbed the side of the pram and wouldn't let her move. She huffed and looked up at him.

"I didn't like the way the guy spoke to you, okay?" he admitted softly. "He was a tosser."

"Two strange people and a baby barged into his hotel room," she snapped. "Of course he was a little wary."

"Yeah, well," Heath stopped, lost for words. He seemed to struggle to find the words that would accurately describe his feelings. Bianca watched him for a moment before rolling her eyes and walking around him. He let her break his grip and stood there for a moment staring at the spot she had just been standing. "It's just," he started. "What is Buckton doing with a tool like that, huh? And since when does she just stand there and say nothing?"

Bianca looked at him softly, a small pout on her face. She slowly pushed the pram around so that she was looking him in the face again.

"No wonder Brax punched a tree," he finished softly, scuffing the ground. "Bloke's a tosser."

"You really are unbelievable," Bianca said. She reached forward and pulled him into a hug, giving his neck a quick kiss. "Brax _will _be okay. We'll be there for him." Bianca assured him. Heath tightened his grip on Bianca. He wasn't so sure.

.

.

.

Brax was down the stairs and at his car quickly, not acknowledging John who tried talking to him again. He brushed him off, and was meet with the familiar comfort of sea air as he made his way to his ute. He was about to hop in when he saw him.

Sid Walker was locking his car and smiling at Indi. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he could hear their voices chiming in the breeze and felt a swell of rage rise up inside him. He dropped the folder and broke into a run as he crossed the car park to Walker's car. He grabbed Sid's arm and threw him up against the cold metal of the family four wheel drive. Brax felt his forearm slip up to Sid's throat and press down menacingly.

Sid flailed in his grip, pushing ineffectually at Brax's arm. He was gasping for air, any that had been in his lungs had been forced out as Brax slammed him against the car.

"You knew!" Brax shouted. "You knew and you never said a god damn word." Brax's forearm pushed dangerously against Sid. He could hear Indi yelling at him at him to stop and smacking at his back, pulling at his arm, but Brax was too far gone to notice her. He bore down harder against Sid's neck while Sid shook his head, trying to get a word though the thick sinew and muscle that held him against his car.

"I didn't," he gasped.

"Don't lie to me," Brax growled, ramming Sid's body into the car again.

Sid dug his fingers into Brax's arm just hard enough to force Brax to relieve the pressure on his wind pipe. "I'm not!"

Brax was startled when John Palmer came up from behind him and tried to get between him and Sid. "Brax, let him go! You're going to kill him."

Brax glared at Sid. Sid's face was red, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Brax could see the beginning of a bruise on Sid's neck already where his forearm had thrust against the delicate skin and deprived Sid's body of oxygen.

Brax pushed off Sid viciously and then let his arms drop by his sides, his fists were clenched, readying himself for a fight. Indi and John rushed to Sid's aid as he fell to the ground coughing violently.

"I didn't know," he managed, looking up at a still fuming Brax. Brax's shoulders were tense and his face was red. A vein pulsed in his forehead, read to burst from the pressure that was building up inside of him. "I swear," Sid croaked.

"Bull shit," Brax spat. "You told us she was gone. You talked Ruby into turning her off. You took her away from me!" Brax began to lurch forward threateningly again, intent on inflicting all the pain he was feeling onto Sid. John shot to his feet to put a barricade between Brax and a still prone Sid. Sid scrambled to his feet, backing away from Brax.

"They told me she was gone. They showed me the test results," he defended, holding his hand out in a pitiful attempt to put distance between himself and an out of control Brax. Sid had seen Brax like this before. He knew the kind of damage the man was capable of. "I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what happened."

"It wasn't Dad's fault," Indi piped up, holding onto her father's arm. Brax barely spared her a glance. He pointed at Sid, thrusting his arm out.

"You stay the hell away from me, you hear me?"

Sid nodded and watched as Brax walked to his car and tore away from the Surf Club, a cloud of dust and flying stone left in his wake.

"I'm fine," Sid assured Indi and John, rubbing his throat. "I'm fine."

On the other side of the car park, with his camera raised, stood Phillip. He scrolled through the photos he had just taken. There was no way he was letting that man anywhere near Sophie.

.

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**So that was chapter 7. I hope you all enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought in a review or two! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Tabula Rasa**

I found this chapter really difficult to write. Some bits flowed nicely and others were just a tough slog. I hope you can't tell the difference in those pieces (!) and you can thank year 10 exams for this chapter. Enjoy chapter 8.

.

.

**Previously:**

_Sid dug his fingers into Brax's arm just hard enough to force Brax to relieve the pressure on his wind pipe. "I'm not!"_

_Brax was startled when John Palmer came up from behind him and tried to get between him and Sid. "Brax, let him go! You're going to kill him."_

_Brax glared at Sid. Sid's face was red, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Brax could see the beginning of a bruise on Sid's neck already where his forearm had thrust against the delicate skin and deprived Sid's body of oxygen._

_Brax pushed off Sid viciously and then let his arms drop by his sides, his fists were clenched, readying himself for a fight. Indi and John rushed to Sid's aid as he fell to the ground coughing violently. _

_"I didn't know," he managed, looking up at a still fuming Brax. _

_"Bull shit," Brax spat. "You told us she was gone. You talked Ruby into turning her off. You took her away from me!" Brax began to lurch forward threateningly again, intent on inflicting all the pain he was feeling onto Sid. John shot to his feet to put a barricade between Brax and a still prone Sid. Sid scrambled to his feet, backing away from Brax. _

_"You stay the hell away from me, you hear me?"_

.

_Charlie and Bianca turned to the voice, while Phillip and Heath broke their staring contest to acknowledge the newcomer. _

_"Mr. Braxton," he greeted distrustfully, as he slipped past Heath into the room. "My name is Senior Inspector Joyce," he said addressing Charlie. He held his hat under his arm and stood sternly in the room. A second, younger officer with sandy blonde hair stood in the hallway, his hands grasped tightly behind his back. "Perhaps you and Mr. Gilbert would like to accompany me down to the station." _

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.

.

"So, Miss Buckton," Inspector Joyce said as Sophie and Phillip took a seat in the interrogation room. "Or do you prefer Maxwell? In this situation it is hard to tell."

Sophie stayed silent, her arms crossed across her chest as she sat in the hard metal chair of the Summer Bay Police Station. Phillip looked at her and then glanced quickly at the inspector.

He was sitting across the table from them with a gentile smile. His uniform was crisp and his hat lay beside a folder with a pen clipped over the edge, trapping the information inside.

"Maxwell," Phillip supplied, clasping his hands nervously in front of him. He hadn't been in a police station in a long time and he couldn't say that an irrational part of him wasn't scared of what was in that file.

"Ah," Inspector Joyce smiled and held his arms out in a welcoming gesture. "Well, Miss Maxwell, it is good to have you back in the Bay."

"Is it?"

Phillip's head whipped back to Sophie as she spoke. Her voice was hard but held a tone of mocking. She unfolded her arms and leant forward onto the table. Her face bore a look of exaggerated confusion.

"Because I would have thought that it put you in an awkward position."

"Of course not," Inspector Joyce replied. "It is always a pleasure to see an officer return."

"I'm not."

"Excuse me?'

"I resigned. I'm not an officer anymore."

"But that doesn't mean that you aren't part of the family."

"Do you always greet long lost family in an interrogation room?"

Inspector Joyce smiled tightly and Sophie leaned back in her seat. She crossed her arms back over her chest and stared at Joyce with a hard, knowing expression. The Inspector didn't flinch.

Phillip's eyes flicked between Inspector Joyce and Charlie, because that's who he was watching. This wasn't Sophie. Sophie didn't confront people and engage them in a battle of wills. She didn't try and goad reactions out of people or say things to make them look like fools. No, he was seeing Charlie. The woman he had only had glimpses of in the past, was sitting in front of him, revelling in finally being allowed out to play.

"Well, on behalf of the Summer Bay and Yabbie Creek Police Force, I just wanted to welcome you back to the Bay."

"And now you have," Charlie said. She pushed back her chair, causing it to screech against the concrete floor. "So I think we'll be going."

Inspector Joyce rose from his seat, picked up his hat and fit it tightly under his arm. He strode past Charlie and Phillip and opened the door, gesturing for them to walk past him.

"Enjoy your day, Miss Maxwell, Mr Gilbert," he said with a nod of his head.

Charlie strode out of the station with Phillip trailing behind her. She didn't notice the woman behind the desk staring after her, mouth agape.

"So it's true," Georgina said. "She really is alive."

Georgina stood behind the front desk, shuffling papers around and resisting the urge to run out after Charlie. From the look on the Inspector's face such a move would not have been received well.

"Yes," the Inspector said warily. "She has been well protected."

"You knew."

"Of course," he said, closing the file and laying it on a small pile of identical folders. "The well being of my officers is always my top priority."

"And what about Ruby? Or Brax?"

"It is unfortunate that they were hurt," Inspector Joyce conceded but his tone was not one of sincerity or apology. He was simply stating facts and leaving no room for Georgina to refute him. His words were to be the last on the matter. "But in the end Senior Sergeant Buckton was safe and happy and that is all that I care about. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Georgina said, her jaw tight.

.

.

.

It wasn't until they reached the car that Phillip mustered the confidence to ask Sophie what she was thinking. He brushed his hand over her elbow, the light touch bringing her to a halt. She whirled around to face him.

"What do you mean?'

"In there," he said, pointing back over his shoulder. He struggled to find the words to describe exactly what he had seen. "He was only being nice."

"Nice?" she laughed. She ran her hand through her hair harshly. "He was trying to see how much I remembered to make sure that I don't sue!"

"Sue?" Phillip asked dumbly. "Why would you sue?'

"Because they ripped my life away from me," she spat. She turned around and wrenched the passenger side door open and slammed it behind her. Phillip stood there looking at her though the lightly tinted glass. She had her arms crossed and a deep scowl was etched across her face.

He sighed and walked slowly round to the driver's side. She didn't acknowledge him as he slipped into the seat. Why would she? He wondered if he was even considered a part of her life anymore. Was he just background noise, or a stop-gap? Her life had been ripped from her. She had said it herself. All she had now was him. Why couldn't she be happy with just him?

They didn't speak as they drove back to the hotel. She just stared out the window watching as Summer Bay whizzed past her. Her eyes weren't fixed, they darted from one place to the next, desperate to take everything in. Scared that if she so much as blinked she would miss something vital. Phillip stared ahead. His eyes fixed on the road in front of him.

.

.

.

Natalie stood on Brax's front steps trying to work up the courage to go in. She hadn't seen him in a few days and she wasn't sure if he wanted to see her, especially after how she had seen him the other day. She had never seen him like that before. She briefly considered simply walking away but the counsellor in her knew she had to face this head on. It was only natural that Brax was going to be upset and confused. There was no reason for her to feel threatened or to take anything he said personally. There was no right or wrong way for either of them to feel and she simply had to support him and make sure that he knew that whatever happened she would be there for him. Besides, Charlie didn't remember anything so there was no reason that she should doubt their relationship. And if she did remember him, it had still been two years. They had both moved on, whatever they had had before was long since over, for both of them. There was no reason she should feel insecure.

Natalie steeled her shoulders, and powered to the door. She knocked loudly and stood there impatiently. Her resolve wavered when the door did not instantly swing open. She stood there and looked at her watch, watching as the thin, gold second hand ticked impossibly slowly around the face. It had moved five small, almost inaudible ticks when the door was pulled open to reveal Brax standing there. He looked normal. Grey singlet and blue jeans ripped at the knee.

"Hi," he sighed.

"Hi," she parroted.

He turned on his heel and walked back into the room, taking a seat at the dining room table. She was left standing in the door way watching his retreating back. He had folders and paper spread out across the table, his laptop was in front of him and a bottle of beer sat to one side.

"Hair of the dog?" she asked with a tight smile as he took a swig.

"Yep," he replied shortly.

She walked behind him to sit down and noticed that the screen was blank, the pastel coloured bubbles of the default screen saver swirled across his screen. His biro still had the cap on and the papers were spread haphazardly. She wondered how long he had been sitting there, stewing.

"How are you feeling?" Natalie asked. "You weren't exactly in the best shape yesterday."

"I'm fine," he said, taking another sip.

"Riiight."

"Did ya want something?" he asked. "Only I've got work to do."

"Yeah, I can see that," she said placating him. "I was just wondering if you'd seen Charlie again?"

"Nup."

"When do you think you will?"

"I'm not."

Natalie was shocked. She was expecting him to want to be with her. To find out everything that had happened in the two years since her 'death'.

"Do you think maybe you should?" she ventured.

"What's the point?" he asked, anger and frustration suddenly colouring his voice. He stood up his chair wobbling precariously on its back legs before it came to a stop. She watched him as he stalked around the living room, pacing back and forth behind the couch. He leaned against it occasionally, gripping the back and then pushing off violently.

"To talk to her? To get closure? To get answers?"

"What's the point?' he repeated. "She doesn't remember me. She barely remembers Ruby, for Christ's sake."

"I know," Natalie said with a nod. She stayed seated not wanting to get in his way at all. He needed space, he needed room to move. He wasn't one to stand still. "But maybe talking with you and Ruby will help her remember. With injuries like hers it can help."

He scoffed. "Injuries like hers? You don't know the first thing about what happened to her."

"You're right," she said, "I don't, but you do and Charlie does."

"Sophie," he interrupted. "Her name is now Sophie. Not Charlie. Charlie is gone."

"But maybe not all of her is. "

"What is with you? All the questions?"

"I just want to help you and I think talking to…Sophie - will do that."

"Well I don't need your help so why don't you just go home."

"Brax-"

"Go!" he shouted. He wrenched the door open and stood breathing heavily beside it. "Get out."

Natalie stood up slowly, smoothed out her skirt and walked with her head held high across the room.

"Take it easy on the booze, okay?" she said, running her hand down his chest. "It won't help."

She walked out and flinched as he slammed the door shut behind her.

.

.

.

Phillip had had a terrible night's sleep. Sophie had slept soundly, safe in the knowledge that she would wake up and have Summer Bay waiting at her feet. Phillip tossed and turned, haunted by the fact that home was so far away and Summer Bay lay just outside the safety of the hotel room.

He had risen early and grabbed his camera. While he was here he may as well try and get some good shots. The Bay, if nothing else, offered some perfect place from some scenic shots. He had seen a small cove as they had been driving that he thought would provide some great photos. He just had to hope that the light would be his friend.

He drove down and parked in the early morning sun. The bright blue of a warm day poked out from the horizon, the light just beginning to play amongst the waves. Phillip left his thongs in the car and made his way down to the sand. It was still cold beneath his feet. He crouched down on the soft sand, looking out. Already footprints trailed along the beach from early morning walkers and dedicated surfers.

He zoomed in on the footprints. Some were hard and clear indentations in the wet sand, cutting a determined path to the waves. Others were more timid, toes dragging between steps, scattering trails of sand amid each new print.

He sat there for hours, watching the waves and light forming shadows and shapes for his camera to capture. The mess of people who arrived, created vivid stills and athletic poses.

The sun was high in the morning sky when the surfers began to trickle away from the beach. Some rushed away, having caught one too many waves for the morning and were now running late for work, others ambled out the swell and flopped onto the sand. He turned his camera on them one after the other, blurring the faces but defining them. Tattoos, sand, blood, wet-suits, brightly coloured bikinis, caught his eye. Water trickling down chests, boards' slick with wax and water, all textured by sand.

He narrowed his lens on a surfer trudging up the beach, board tucked under his arm. His face was heavy and he cricked his neck tyring to ease the tension that surfing had not been able to relive. Phillip zoomed further on the black ink on the surfer's chest, blurring it before he brought it into sharp focus. Phillip snapped a curious shot and look at the still on his screen. He flicked back hoping that the words would change but there it was, emblazoned on his chest. Blood and Sand.

_Brax._

Phillip called out as Brax walked past him. Brax turned to look at him, his face turning hard when he saw Phillip.

"Phillip," he greeted with a nod. He kept walking up the beach. Phillip hurried after him.

"Catch any good waves?" Phillip asked, his eyes flicked across Brax's chest taking in the stark words.

"One or two," Brax replied shortly.

"Hmmm," Phillip uttered still trailing Brax as they broke through the scrub and small dunes onto grass.

Brax looked at him. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, yeah," Phillip faltered. He took a deep breath. "I was just wondering what the tattoo meant?" he pointed to Brax's chest. Brax looked down briefly and then back up to Phillip's face. Brax looked him directly in the eye, never breaking eye contact. Phillip shifted slightly under the weight of his gaze.

For a moment, Phillip didn't think that Brax was going to answer him. Brax stared at him and then a humourless smile creased his face. He leaned into Phillip, just a bit too close to be comfortable.

"Blood and sand," he said. "Most important things in the world."

Brax walked off leaving a startled Phillip in his wake. _Most important things in the world._

Phillip walked aimlessly along the path until he came to a bench. He sat down and mechanically dismantled his camera and put it back in its case. He stared out at the waves. He couldn't see them crashing on the sand from where he was. The fence and low growing shrubs blocked his view. From where he sat the water was calm, small bulbs of water floated towards him and gently disappeared beneath his line of sight. Everything was soft and calm, no thrashing against sand, no froth as the water was churned. It was all just peaceful.

.

.

.

Natalie walked into the diner and ordered a coffee. Her eyes felt heavy.

"Maybe I should make it a double shot," Irene said, eyeing her. "You look like you haven't slept a wink, Darl."

"I don't think I did," Natalie admitted, "I was too worried about Brax."

"I'm sure it'll all work itself out," Irene assured her. "You just need to give it a bit of time. Gawd, it hasn't even been a week." She passed the coffee over the counter with a worried glace. "Nah, love," she said as Natalie held out a ten dollar note, "On the house."

"Thanks, Irene." Natalie smiled, gratefully and took a sip of her coffee. "I better get to work. There I have plenty of other people's problems to take my mind off my own."

Irene smiled sympathetically. Natalie waved and turned to leave. She was almost out the door when she heard Irene letting out a shrill cry. She turned to see Sid and Indi at the counter.

"Gawd, love," Irene exclaimed. "What happened to your neck?"

She stared at the angry purple marks that coloured Sid's neck. They were dark and thick, spreading out up and across his neck, disappearing under his shirt. He touched his finger tips to the bruise slightly, trying to shield Irene's eyes from it but flinched slightly at the contact.

"It was nothing, Irene," Sid said, trying to fob her off. His voice was coarse and harsh. The light swelling of his throat obstructing his vocal cords. "Just a misunderstanding."

"Like hell it was," Indi interrupted angrily.

"Indi," Sid warned.

"No, Dad, Brax was out of control. He could have killed you."

"What?" Natalie exclaimed rushing back over to join the small group. "Brax did that?"

"He was upset. I probably would have done the same thing it his situation. It was a logical thought."

"No, it wasn't," Indi said defiantly. "How could he think that?"

"How could he think what?'

Sid sighed and rubbed his forehead. "He thought I knew that Charlie was alive."

Irene gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"I was the one who told them she was gone," Sid explained, "I convinced them to let her go, it makes perfect sense that I would have known. That he would blame me."

"But you didn't?" Irene clarified, uncertainly.

"Of course not, Irene!" Indi declared.

"No," Sid confirmed. "If I had none of this would be happening. Blind Freddy could see how much Brax loved Charlie."

Natalie looked down, fiddling with a loose thread on her dress.

"There was no way I would have done that to him," he continued. "Or Ruby. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. I can barely live with myself now."

"Sid, it's not your fault," Irene said, reaching over the counter to grasp his arm. "There was no way you could have known."

"Of course not," Natalie piped up. Indi wrapped her arm around her father's side. He grasped he shoulder in return.

"I'm a doctor," Sid said forlornly. "I should have known."

.

.

.

.

Charlie had woken to an empty and cold bed, Phillip having been out the room long before she had woken. It was strange. She was usually the first one up. She was much more of a morning person than he was. He would grumble and groan and bury his head under the pillows when she got up to go for walks.

Part of her was glad for the time to herself but another part was disappointed. She was nervous about her lunch with Ruby and part of her just wanted him by her side to tell her it was all going to be alright and that Ruby was going to come around. But he wasn't here. She had no idea where he was and he wasn't answering his phone. It wasn't like him to be unreachable**.**

She glanced at her watch. It was only ten o'clock.

She let out a frustrated breath. She was so sick of sitting around and waiting for things to happen. She had been doing that for two years now. She didn't need Phillip to be with her in order to explore the town. She could go by herself. It was her town. Her home. She could wander the streets happily. Who knows, maybe she would stumble upon a memory.

Decision made, Charlie left the hotel in a rush. She walked down towards the town, hoping that something would feel familiar. And it did. The beach looked just like hers in Queensland, only it wasn't as busy.

She sighed and continued walking until she found herself standing outside the Surf Club, staring at the sign for Angelo's. Her mind was screaming at her to move forward, to head up to Angelo's but her body wasn't listening. She stood there transfixed by the white letters. Angelo's. Angelo's. Except it wasn't Angelo that she wanted to see.

Charlie walked nervously up the stairs towards Angelo's. She didn't really know what she was going to say when she reached the top. But she continued up anyway. God, she hated stairs. She had to be able to walk up the stairs at the rehab centre before they would release her completely and it had damn near killed her. The bloody things just kept on going. Every time she conquered one, there was another one just in front of her. But she had managed the stairs at the rehab centre and she was going to be able to walk into Angelo's and have a conversation with Brax.

"We're closed," he yelled gruffly as she reached the top.

"Oh, sorry," she said quickly, from the threshold of Angelo's. "There wasn't a closed sign so I figured-I'll come back later." She turned to leave, hoping to get down the stairs faster than she had come up.

"No, wait," Brax said, bounding up from his chair and rushing over to her. He stopped in front of her. He stood there, unsure whether to put his hand in his pocket or not. He settled for gesturing behind himself invitingly. "Why don't you come in?"

Charlie smiled. "Thanks."

Brax smiled in relief and gestured for her to come in and sit down. Brax sat down at the head of a long table in the middle of the restaurant. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table top and then swept across it with his hand. He leaned back nervously as he felt Charlie watching him.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked. He tried to keep his voice steady and remain calm but his insides were twisting horribly. He suddenly found sitting still extremely difficult.

"I just wanted to see you," she said looking at the table rather than at him. Brax nodded but didn't say anything in response. "I think everyone in the town has come to see me in the past couple of days but you haven't."

She glanced up at him and saw him leaning back in his chair, his hands locked behind his head, elbows pointing outwards. He rubbed his joined hands up and down the back of his head a few times and let out a deep breath as he released his hands and leaned forward. He wouldn't meet her eyes_._

"I came to see you the first day you were back," he said. He twisted his thumb ring and looked up at her.

"Yes," Charlie conceded, with a small nod of her head. "But you didn't stay. You left as soon as…as soon as Phillip got there."

Brax nodded, unsure what to say. They sat there looking at each other, both absently fiddling with their hands. Brax broke her gaze and hauled himself up. "You want a coffee?" he asked, dashing behind the bar before Charlie responded.

"Sure," Charlie said, raising herself slowly and following Brax to the bar. She pushed herself onto the bar stool. "But can we make that a tea instead. I don't drink coffee."

"I think I can manage to dunk a tea bag in hot water, yeah," Brax said with a cheeky smile.

Charlie rolled her eyes and returned the smile. She watched Brax make her tea.

Brax was glad for the distraction. Sitting across for her, he was about ready to jump across the table and kiss her right then and there. He needed to put a bit more space between them.

"One tea," he said, presenting the tea to her. She pulled the saucer closer to her with her right hand, twirling it until the mug's handle was facing her. She picked the drink up and shifted her grip slightly by pushing the side of her left hand against the base. Brax studied her as she did so, hypnotised by her inactive left hand.

"You can ask, you know," Charlie said, breaking him from thoughts. "Why is your hand all curled up? Why do you walk with a limp? What's wrong with you?" she supplied when he looked at her slightly bemused. She shrugged. "You can ask."

"There's nothing wrong with ya," he said seriously. Charlie blushed and looked down, fiddling with the tea cup to stop her from looking up at Brax's face. He was staring at her intently and she could feel her temperature begin to rise under his scrutiny.

"Thank you," she whispered. She focused on the tea for a moment. Taking a sip before placing it back on the saucer. She ran her finger tip along the rim of the mug, feeling the heat radiate up through her hand.

"I had a stroke," she said looking back up at him. "Well two actually. It was after the accident. I was pretty much text book worst case scenario with everything." Charlie paused as Brax sucked in a gasp. She lifted her left arm into the air and waved her curled fist at him. "This was because of a stroke. I have partial paralysis down my left side. I have some sensation but it's diminished." Charlie shrugged and stared down at her hand.

"I can straighten my fingers," she said looking up at him with a hint of pride in her voice. She held her hand up so he could see it clearly and slowly uncurled her fist as far as she could. Her fingers weren't completely straight; they still bent slightly at the secondknuckle. She slowly pulled her pointer finger to her thumb, and then did the same with the index, middle, ring and pinkie. She smiled at him.

"Three months of physical therapy right there," she said. Her smile dropped when Brax didn't respond. He just stared at her hand. "I know it doesn't seem like much of an achievement," she started, her eyes were downcast again and she dropped her hand to her lap, behind the bar where he couldn't see it.

"Nah, nah," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to make ya uncomfortable, aye," he said.

Charlie shrugged.

"Aren't you a bit young to have a stroke?" Brax asked.

"Um," Charlie started slowly. "My doctor said that I died when I was shot." Brax dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "-Which you know," Charlie said awkwardly before barrelling on through with her explanation. "Anyway, my brain was deprived of oxygen for quite a while, which caused a stoke. It mainly affected the right side of my brain which is why the left side is weaker and they think that probably had an effect on my memory too."

Brax nodded. "So you can feel your hand?" he asked pointing to it.

Charlie nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I have to be careful if things are too hot or pressing into me too much because I don't always notice before I've hurt myself." She leant forward on the bar and placed her hand on top. She pointed to a small discolouration near the base of her thumb. "See that there?' she asked him. Brax leant forward studying her hand carefully. "That was me not realising my hand was resting on a saucepan I had just used." Brax picked her hand up gently and examined the small scar. He ran his thumb over the crescent moon shape patch of darker skin, feeling the texture of her skin change.

"Did it hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Good."

She smiled at him and he continued to hold her hand. He met her eyes and stared at her for a second. He dropped her hand quickly, and took a step away from the bar.

"Maybe you should go, aye," he said. "I'm sure Phillip's looking for you by now."

Charlie looked at him, taken aback. "Oh alright," she said, slowly sliding off the bar stool. She straightened her top, pulling it down roughly. "I'll see you later, I guess."

She rushed out of Angelo's, looking back over her shoulder quickly at Brax before she turned the corner and headed down the stairs.

Behind the bar, Brax exhaled sharply and slammed his fists onto the bar.

.

.

.

Georgina sat at her desk, staring at the closed office door. The Inspector was in there. He was still in the station. Why hadn't he gone back to his office. With their glass doors and an air conditioner that wasn't partially held together with duct tape. He was still in the office with the door shut. She could hear his muffled voice on the phone.

She knew it was about Charlie. That was the only reason he would be here. The biggest case they'd had lately was when Ethel in the bowls club was found to be skimming off the top of the charity bin.

The door swung open and Georgina hurriedly averted her eyes, her hands quickly typing the lyrics to 'Girls Just Wanna have Fun' to make it look like she was doing something other than staring at the closed door.

"I'll be back this afternoon, Watson," The Inspector told her. "I have business to attend to in Yabbie Creek."

Georgina nodded and gave him a small wave. She watched as he left and waited a minute to make sure he was truly gone. She rushed out from behind the desk and darted into the office, closing the door softly behind her. She leaned over his computer and awakened the screen.

_Damn. _The computer was logged off.

Georgina sat in the chair and clasped her hands together. If she was the Inspector where would she put an important file?

"In my briefcase," she muttered to herself, "So it would be with me at all times."

This was a waste of time. She didn't know what she had been thinking. She sighed and leaned back in the chair. As she leaned back, the tab of a file caught her eye. It was at the bottom of a pile of papers. The papers weren't important, minor domestics and a few noise complaints. The tab was turned to the side and she hadn't noticed the name until she had leaned back, the higher angle changing her perspective.

Pirovic, Jake.

Georgina double checked the door and pulled the file out. Why would Inspector Joyce had Jake Pirovic's file out? He had plead guilty to the murder of a police officer, along with a string of drug charges. Even if Charlie being alive took a few years off his sentence, he wasn't getting out of prison till he was a very old man.

She flicked through the file, there was nothing overly interesting, until she reached about halfway through. There was an A4 photo of a whiteboard. It wasn't official and would be taken out the file before any legitimate action was taken.

Georgina picked up the photo and studied it. Her eyes widened. This couldn't be right. Jake wasn't that connected. He was a small time drug dealer with delusions of grandeur. He wasn't smart enough to be involved with any of this.

Georgina grabbed the file and rushed to the photocopier. She hurriedly pulled paperclips off and carefully removed staples to feed the file through the photocopier. She needed a copy of everything in this file. She needed to confirm it for herself. If this photo was right there was a lot more going on then she had been told.

.

.

.

Charlie sat nervously in Angelo's waiting for Ruby to arrive. She was 20minutes early but she couldn't wander around the Bay waiting any longer. She needed to be here, even if she could feel Brax's eyes boring into her every few minutes.

She ordered a lemonade and sat nervously at the table. Her foot was tapping beneath the table and she was second guessing her choice of outfit. She was in a soft purple dress that came to just above her knee. She should have gone for jeans. More casual. She was looking down at the dress in distaste when she heard Ruby's bight voice greet her. She stood up quickly and let the young woman wrap her arms around her.

"You're early," Charlie smiled.

"Yeah, I couldn't wait," Ruby said cheerily. "Have you ordered?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

Ruby beamed at her and picked up her menu. "Well the burger is great here,"

"I'm a vegetarian."

Ruby stared at her with wide eyes.

"I'm not a vegetarian?" Charlie asked.

"No," Ruby said slowly, "But you did say once that it was the healthier option and that we should try it."

"Did we?"

"Nope, but if you are, the vegetarian pizza is nice."

They sat making idle chit chat until their food arrived. The conversation was light and breezy. Ruby did most of the talking but Charlie didn't mind. It was good to get to know her daughter and find out all about her life. What she was studying, how she did at school who her friends were, how she did on the surfing circuit. Charlie revelled in every minute of it.

It wasn't until they were halfway through their meals that the conversation took a serious turn.

"So how long will you be staying in the Bay?" Ruby ventured. She couldn't quite meet Charlie's eyes as she asked.

Charlie set down her slice of pizza slowly. She wiped her hand on her napkin. "I'm not sure," Charlie started. "I mean I have to get back to work at some point but my doctors said that being in a familiar environment could help my memory. Memory cues could be in the smallest thing."

"Cues like what?" Ruby asked, filling her mouth with chips.

"Anything, really," Charlie shrugged. "A sign, person, smell. Anything. Won't know until I see it!"

"So it doesn't have to be a big thing?"

"No, I'm not really-"

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Phillip interrupted, kissing Charlie quickly and taking a seat at the table with her and Ruby. He was slightly out of breath. Ruby smiled tightly at him. "I was taking photos and the Bay is so beautiful I just lost track of time," he laughed.

"It's fine," Ruby said. "We have so much to catch up on that we didn't even notice you weren't here."

Phillip pursed his lips at Ruby but didn't comment. He grabbed a menu from the table behind him and scanned it quickly. "You two don't mind if I order now do you? I'm starved."

"No, that's fine," Charlie assured him, "We'll wait for you, won't we, Rubes?"

"Yeah, sure."

Phillip hailed over a waiter. "Could I grab the vegetarian lasagne and a coke, please. Cheers, mate."

Ruby eyed Phillip strangely. "You're a vegetarian?" she asked.

"Yeah," Phillip replied. "Soph and I both are."

"That's nice."

The three of them sat in awkward silence as they waited for Phillip's food to arrive.

Charlie desperately wanted to fill the silence but couldn't think of anything to say. She peered around the restaurant. She couldn't see Brax. She looked back at Ruby to see her playing with her fork, swinging it back and forth between her fingers. Charlie sighed and closed her eyes briefly. As she opened them, her eyes fell on Heath as he sauntered into the restaurant. He inclined his head to her as he walked past and clapped Ruby on the shoulder. Charlie returned the nod and gave him a quick smile.

"You remember Heath?" she asked stunned. She stared at Charlie with wide eyes.

"W-what? No!" Charlie stuttered. "He and Bianca came to see me. Lots of people stop me for a chat."

"Oh my God!" Ruby cried excitedly. "We should have a party. A welcome home party and then you can have the change to re-meet everyone."

Charlie gaped at her, slightly overwhelmed by her exuberance. "Okay," she agreed dumbly.

Phillip's head snapped round in surprise. "Wait," he interrupted. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Of course it is," Ruby said dismissively. "You've been saying that a familiar environment could help you remember, right?"

Right," Charlie said uncertainly.

"And what's more familiar than Angelo's and all your friends? I'm going to go clear it with Brax." She rushed off, slipping behind the bar and grabbing the booking book.

Charlie watched as Brax plucked the book from her hand and turned her by the shoulders, steering her out from behind the bar. Ruby rolled her eyes but followed his directions.

He glanced at Charlie quickly and Charlie averted her eyes abruptly, feeling heat begin to rise in her cheeks.

"I really think this is a bad idea," Phillip hissed. "One party isn't going to mean you have a full recovery."

"I know," Charlie whispered, "But it means so much to Ruby."

.

.

"Ruby," Brax scolded. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay out from behind the bar?"

"Last time, I promise," she said, pulling the bar stood closer to her and jumping up.

"So why were you there anyway?" Brax asked, leaning against the bar. "Charlie and Phillip not enough conversation for you?"

Ruby looked down at her hands. "You could come over, you know. I'm sure Charlie wouldn't mind."

"Nah," Brax said quickly. "Not any of my business, aye."

"How could Charlie not be your business?"

Brax pushed off the bar, "So what did you want?" he asked, changing the subject. He ripped open a box of wine with slightly more aggression than usual and pulled the bottles out. He turned away from Ruby to open the fridge. He propped the door open with his foot and began to slide the wine back along the shelf.

"Well," Ruby said taking a deep breath before launching into her explanation. "I want to make a booking for Saturday night because Charlie said that being around familiar things would make her memory come back, so I want to have a big party and everyone in the Bay to come!"

Brax stopped putting the wine away. "And you want to have it here?" he asked incredulously.

"What's more familiar than here?"

"I don't know, Leah's, The Diner, the beach."

"Don't be stupid. It's a party. Here is the best place for a party."

"Rubes," Brax said seriously. "Are you sure bombarding Charlie with people is going to help her?"

"They're not just people, Brax. They're her friends. You watch she'll start remembering heaps!"

Brax paused and looked at Ruby worriedly. He came back over to stand in front of her. "Rubes, you have to prepare yourself that Charlie might not ever really come back."

Ruby looked at Brax in disbelief. She shook her head. "You're the one that said she was here and that I should be happy about it, now I am and you're telling me to prepare for the worst?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Then," Ruby said, plastering a grin on her face, "Tell that table of 6 that they can't come in on Saturday and book Charlie's party in instead!" She jumped down from the stool and skipped away.

"I'm not chucking customers out," he called after her.

"There," Ruby said, plonking herself back down at the table. "All booked for Saturday!"

"Great," Charlie said, "Can't wait."

.

.

**A/N:** I did a bit of googleing on strokes but I mainly made it up. It's a Home and Away land stoke. It affects just what I need it to and nothing else. If I've got things wrong, feel free to tell me and I'll probably try to work that information in, but I feel that the specifics of the injury aren't all that important. It's a TV injury, it's just meant to serve the story. Plus, getting a medical degree to understand some of the jargon on the stroke sites just seems like too much effort! So basically, I'm asking you to overlook any inaccuracies and implausibility that may arise from Charlie's injury. Suspend your disbelief. :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Tabula Rasa – Chapter 9**

Thank you to everyone who left a review on the last chapter. TR reviews have officially broken into triple figures which is pleasantly ego inflating. Next milestone is 150 *hint hint nudge nudge* Footy players get a banner to run through every game, I just want a review. :)

I don't usually name chapters because my track record with naming things is atrocious but, for all of you who were wondering, and I know so many of you so desperately were (not), I would have called this one, "Game On, Mole".

So please enjoy and don't forget to review!

.

.

**Previously: **

_"Oh my God!" Ruby cried excitedly. "We should have a party. A welcome home party and then you can have the change to re-meet everyone."_

_Charlie gaped at her, slightly overwhelmed by her exuberance. "Okay," she agreed dumbly. _

_Phillip's head snapped round in surprise. "Wait," he interrupted. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."_

_"Of course it is," Ruby said dismissively. "You've been saying that a familiar environment could help you remember, right?"_

_"I really think this is a bad idea," Phillip hissed. "One party isn't going to mean you have a full recovery."_

_"I know," Charlie whispered, "But it means so much to Ruby."_

"_Ruby," Brax scolded. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay out from behind the bar?"_

"_Last time, I promise," she said, pulling the bar stood closer to her and jumping up._

"_So why were you there anyway?" Brax asked, leaning against the bar. "Charlie and Phillip not enough conversation for you?"_

_Ruby looked down at her hands. "You could come over, you know. I'm sure Charlie wouldn't mind."_

"_Nah," Brax said quickly. _

"_Well," Ruby said taking a deep breath before launching into her explanation. "I want to make a booking for Saturday night because Charlie said that being around familiar things would make her memory come back, so I want to have a big party and everyone in the Bay to come!"_

"_Rubes," Brax said seriously. "Are you sure bombarding Charlie with people is going to help her?"_

"_They're not just people, Brax. They're her friends. You watch she'll start remembering heaps!"_

_Brax paused and looked at Ruby worriedly. He came back over to stand in front of her. "Rubes, you have to prepare yourself that Charlie might not ever really come back."_

_Ruby looked at Brax in disbelief. She shook her head. "You're the one that said she was here and that I should be happy about it, now I am and you're telling me to prepare for the worst?"_

"_I just don't want you to get hurt."_

"_Then," Ruby said, plastering a grin on her face, "Tell that table of 6 that they can't come in on Saturday and book Charlie's party in instead!" She jumped down from the stool and skipped away._

"_I'm not chucking customers out," he called after her. _

"_There," Ruby said, plonking herself back down at the table. "All booked for Saturday!"_

"_Great," Charlie said, "Can't wait." _

_._

_._

Brax couldn't believe he'd let Ruby talk him into this. Charlie was going to be here all night. She was going to be in front of him for hours and there was nothing he could do about it. Except put the damn pink and glittery centre pieces on the tables just like Ruby had asked him. Then he was going to stand behind the bar and hope that she never had to buy a drink…and that everybody else did so Ruby didn't have an excuse to drag him over.

"Brax? Brax?" Liam demanded.

"Yeah, what?" Brax barked.

"Whoa," Liam said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I've been trying to get your attention for ages."

"Yeah well, I'm a bit distracted." Brax grabbed a centrepiece and walked over to the bar, plonking it on the countertop in front of the register. He flicked at the pink glittery wires that splayed out from the solid base and watched as they flopped up and down.

"You don't have to be here, you know. I can handle the party if you want."

"And why would I need you to do that?"

"Brax, come one. Can we not play this game?" Brax folded his arms and stared at Liam. "Fine," Liam sighed. "Charlie is going to be here all night, laughing and smiling and meeting people and she's going to be doing it all with Phillip by her side and," he stressed, " you're going to have to watch from behind that bar."

"I can handle it."

"Really?"

"If you've got something to say, Murphy, just say it."

"I don't think you should be here tonight, you're going to do something stupid."

Brax waved him off and started mindlessly straightening bottles of spirits behind the bar. "I've got it under control."

"I doubt Sid Walker would agree."

"Nothing he didn't deserve."

Liam glanced around Angelo's as some of the kitchen staff popped out for some wine. "Do you really think Sid would have done that? If not to you then to Ruby?"

"Who else would have done it? Huh? " Brax wiped his hand over his eyes. "Just get back to work, Murphy. Ruby will be here to make sure everything is up to spec soon."

"She has you so whipped, mate."

Brax rolled his eyes and threw a pen at Liam. "Nick off."

.

.

Thirty minutes later, Ruby walked into Angelo's and let out a gasp followed by an excited squeal.

"Jesus, Rubes," Brax said , not bothering to get up from his spot at the table. "Kinda need my hearing to take people's orders tonight."

Ruby slapped him on the shoulder with her purse and sat down beside him. "The place looks fantastic," she praised.

Brax glanced around. He thought the place looked like a My Little Pony had thrown up in the dining room. The tables were covered in a simple white table cloth with pink and silver scatters decorating its surface. A centrepiece sat on every table, a weight covered in a deep pink foil supported a bouquet of thick strands of pink wire with a network of stars and hearts exploding from it . Pink and silver helium balloons sailed from spare centre pieces in each corner. Looking up, a series of pink and silver stars cascaded from the ceiling, thick glossy cardboard creating a faux galaxy. Fairy lights lit the room, the small bubbles of light chasing each other around the ceiling, up and around pillars and along the bar. Behind the bar there sat cocktail glasses half filled with coffee beans and topped with pink sugar. The sugar beginning to fall through the beans, filling in the gaps and snaking to the bottom of the glass.

"Yeah, it was the girliest crap we had."

Ruby slapped his arm with a smile. "No, I'm serious, Brax. You've done a fantastic job and tonight is going to be awesome!"

Brax smiled tightly. He had tried to get himself wrapped up in Ruby's excitement but he just couldn't. This wasn't going to work. Not for him, not for Ruby and certainly not for Charlie. Charlie was gone and Sophie was here to stay. He half listened to Ruby as they sat there together. Leah was going to be here in less than ten minutes ("Not that your desserts aren't great," Ruby had assured him. "But you know that the lemon cupcakes from Leah's are her favourites and besides, who doesn't love cupcakes?"), he just had to hold out till then.

.

.

Brax stood behind the bar, determined not to move from his spot all night. He wasn't going to run food, he wasn't going to deliver drinks to tables or clean up any spills. He was going to stand where he was, in charge of the alcohol and be kept busy all night. He could pretend that he wasn't watching as Ruby 'ohh'ed and 'ahh'ed over the cupcakes and Leah's dress in turn. He could pretend he wasn't listening as Colleen 'whispered' her questions, concerns and misgiving over Charlie being back ("What if she's a spy for the government?") to an affronted Irene, and he could pretend that he wasn't ready to jump out of his skin the second Charlie arrived.

His plan would have been perfect but the fact that from his place behind the bar, he was gifted with a perfect view of the front entrance. From where he stood, behind his bar, cornered off from the rest of the town, he could stand and stare at each person who trickled in unfashionably early and shockingly on time, and wasn't Charlie.

Brax didn't notice her when she first walked in. He was busy filling the perspex fish tank on top of the bar with extra Coronas and Smirnoff. She was surrounded by a gaggle of ogling townies before he so much as laid eyes on her. It was Colleen's rather boisterous greeting that drew his attention.

Charlie was smiling and hugging everyone in turn as they introduced themselves. Ruby offered tid bits of commentary, explaining their relationship to Charlie.

Brax couldn't help but smile as he looked at her. She looked beautiful. Her hair was lightly curled and she wore a canary yellow cocktail dress that flared out at her hips and settled just above her knees. Gone were the killer heals she used to don on nights out and in their place were a simple pair of ballet flats.

Brax pulled open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Charlie's favourite Sav Blanc and poured it slowly. He screwed the cap on, double checking it was firmly sealed before replacing it in the fridge. Brax took a deep breath before making his way out from behind the relative safety of the bar, the crowd parted slightly to let him through, and over to her. He was left slightly dumbstruck as she turned to face him.

"First ones on the house," he said holding the wine glass out. He felt stupid holding out his arm. It was like he was at a year 9 social asking the pretty girl to dance.

He saw her blush slightly at the proffered glass and her eyes flicked over to Phillip.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, but made no move to take the glass from him. "But I don't actually drink - but I'd love a lemonade?"

Brax glanced at Phillip, suppressing an scowl. "No worries," he said tightly.

"It's just that," Charlie grabbed his arm as he turned to walk away, hurrying to explain herself. "It's just that Phillip," (the Prick, he mentally added) "has been sober for just over two years and I, well, I-"

"It's fine, Charlie," Brax said, although it didn't escape his notice that Charlie didn't quite have a reason for her own sudden sobriety. "One lemonade coming up."

"Thanks."

She smiled at him then and Brax swore that he could feel his heart break just the tiniest bit. He had one of his waiters take the lemonade over to her. He couldn't help but watch her though as she made her way through the painstakingly decorated room. The fairy lights twinkling around her. She was constantly surrounded, it seemed like the whole town had turned out for Charlie's welcome home party. People that he had never seen in his life were making an appearance, keen to hear all about the 'Mysterious Tale of Sophie Maxwell', as Colleen had put it. He lost sight of her as there was a surge of people to the bar. He smiled tightly when Phillip the Prick came up to order two lemonades with a slice of lemon. He hadn't put lemon in her first one.

"You've got a great place here," Phillip the Prick commented.

"Yeah," Brax replied, "We do alright."

Phillip continued like he hadn't heard him. "It's not your typical RSL place."

"That's because it's a Surf Club," Brax pointed out with a roll of his eyes, plonking the two lemonades (with a slice of lemon) down on the bar in front of Phillip the Prick. He briefly wondered if he could pull the Prick over the bar and wrap his bare hands around his neck before Charlie noticed, but his calculations were interrupted as Phillip started talking again.

"Either way," he said, looking Brax dead in the eye," Sophie seems to like it here."

"That so." Brax pulled a tray of glasses from the dishwasher and began to dry them. The monotonous movements keeping his hands at bay.

"Yeah," he continued, "She noticed this place right off the bat."

Brax set the newly dry glass down, sensing that the conversation he was having, wasn't the same one Phillip was having.

"Guess Soph spent a lot of time here." He stared at Brax, the 'with you' clearly implied to be at the end of his sentence hung in the air between them. "Guess it's one of the few night places this town has," Phillip said. "Except for The Sands."

Brax didn't respond. Phillip the Prick continued standing awkwardly in front of the bar. "Well I should get back to Sophie. " A sudden smile graced his features. "I'm sure there's still a few people in here we haven't been introduced to yet."

Brax gave him a curt, sarcastic wave as Phillip the Prick wove his way back through the throng of people in search of Charlie.

"Dickhead," he muttered. Brax grabbed himself a glass and splashed some bourbon in the bottom, downing it quickly. He repeated the process. As he shot the bourbon back, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a flash of pale yellow break away from the crowd and slip outside to the balcony. He poured himself a generous (even by his standards) drink and followed her out.

.

.

He saw her standing alone on the balcony. She was tucked into the corner. You had to be looking for her to find her. As it was, part of her was obscured from view. He watched her slumped shoulders rise slowly up and down. He looked around the party quickly and made his way through the last line of the crowd. He didn't make a noise as he came up beside her and leaned on the railing. He took a sip of his bourbon and turned his head to her.

"Having fun?'

She snorted, and he couldn't help but smile. She turned to face him and he could see the remnants of tears on her face, her makeup slightly smudged. He could see a light tear track running down her cheek. She reached out to him and he felt her fingers brush over his as she took the drink from his hand. She downed it in one go. She scrunched her face up and let out a small gasp as the liquid burned down her throat.

"That was pretty impressive for someone who doesn't drink," he said, raising his eyebrows.

She cheersed the empty glass to him and slammed it on the railing between them.

He stood there beside her, less than a half a metre away and said nothing. She was looking out to the beach, her hands clasped the top of the rail and she swung back on her heels, pushing her body away from the balcony's edge. Her arms were outstretched in front of her, and she brought her head down to hang between her elbows. She let out a frustrated breath. Brax stretched his arm out and laid his hand on Charlie's back and moved it in slow circles. He felt her muscles relax under his hand and her shoulders lose their tension. Her back curved into his hand.

"I don't want to go back in there," she moaned to the floor.

"Then don't."

Charlie stood up and Brax let his hand drop back to his side. He tucked it deep in his pocket.

"I have to, Ruby will kill me if I don't."

"I don't know," Brax said, staring straight out to the ocean. "It's your party, you can leave it you want to."

She smiled slightly. "You'll cover with Ruby for me?"

"Nah," he said quickly. "That kid's scary, aye." He turned his head and smiled at her.

She laughed and for the first time since she'd gotten back it reached her eyes and suddenly Charlie, his Charlie, was standing beside him. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight as she shoved his arm playfully.

"She organised all the pink, I take it?"

Brax looked over his shoulder back at the party. From their little, almost secret alcove, he could only see a small shaft of the room. The helium balloons had drooped slightly and there were pink scatters on the floor. Shit, he was going to be picking those up for months.

"Yeah, the brief was girly and fun. Most of it is left over from a Hen's Night."

"Second hand decorations?" Charlie mocked gasped, covering her heart with her hands. "I feel so cheap now."

Brax shrugged. "Late notice."

Charlie raised her eyebrows and looked away from Brax and back out to sea. "It certainly was."

Just like that the spell was broken. Her smile fell, her shoulders slumped, he hipped kicked out as she favoured her right side and her hands grasped the railing for support. Brax wasn't sure what had just happened but Sophie stood beside him again. He watched her silently as her eyes followed the swell and gentle crash of the waves against the sand. Despite the thumping of music behind them, he would have sworn that he could hear them too.

Her curls had dropped slightly now, a few hung limply around her face. He longed to tuck them behind her ear. He was so caught up in just watching her that he barely noticed when she straightened her back and turned to face him. Liquid courage had fused her spine, he mused faintly.

"So, how do I look? Presentable?" She held her arms out, twisting slightly from side to side.

Brax couldn't help himself. He reached out, cupping her cheek with his hand. His thumb pressed against her skin, blending her foundation back in and disguising all evidence of her tears. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled at him and let his thumb continue to brush back and forth over her cheek. "Thank you," she said, her eyes never leaving his.

Brax brought his other hand up to cup her face and took a small step forward. Charlie's body followed him, her head tilting slightly to maintain eye contact. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss. Charlie's hand grasped his shirt, the black material squeezed tightly in her fingers. He could feel the warmth of her fingers on his abdomen through the material. He finally pulled away to find Charlie's eyes were squeezed shut.

He let out a shuddering breath as he dropped his hands from her face. She smelled just the same. He knew she did, but the shock of it hit him hard enough to jolt him back to reality. She wasn't his. She never would be again. And whatever glimpses he got of Charlie through Sophie wasn't worth it. Whatever game they had begun to play, tucked away from the world in their own private corner, he wanted out.

He shuffled back from her, her arm extending out, reluctant to let him go. He looked down to see pale, straining knuckles contrasting starkly with his black shirt. He brushed her hand away harshly, attempting to mask the movement by bringing his hands to his hips.

"Drinks won't serve themselves," he said by way of explanation, thrusting his arm out behind him. She stared at him in shock. Her eyes wide. It was then he noticed that one was not quite as wide as the other. The black that lined her eyes (undoubted put there by Ruby) dropped slightly. The lid hanging just a little lower than the other. He felt like he was going to choke. He swallowed thickly, trying to suppress the urge to kick and scream and cry and tear the world apart, while she stood there, leaning heavily to one side and watched him silently, through slightly hooded, uneven eyes.

He stalked back into the party, brushing past a squawking Colleen and a belligerent, sherry soaked Marge, as he made his way back over to the bar. Liam watched his approach as he finished serving yet another person Brax didn't recognise but had clearly missed Charlie dearly.

Liam stood there as Brax grabbed the keys from the register and dropped into a squat in front of the liquor cupboard.

"Brax?" Liam ventured, shooting a glare at a faceless customer trying to get his attention.

"You were right, Murphy," Brax said, breaking the seal of the whisky bottle and chugging a few gulps down. He raised the bottle to Liam as he stood up and turned to walk out on his restaurant, shoving the keys into Liam's chest with unnecessary force. "Did something stupid."

.

.

Brax woke up the next early afternoon on the beach, a half empty bottle of whisky beside him and the makings of an almighty sun burn on his face. He pushed himself up from the sand, scooping up the bottle as he stood and swayed slightly as he head spun. The world came back into bright focus after a few moments and he trudged his way back along the beach, wondering where his right shoe had gotten too.

He was about to pull himself up the ramp to the Surf Club when a frustrated sigh broke through his hung-over and possibly, slightly sun stroke induced haze. He turned to see Charlie sitting half way up a dune, ripping small plants up with handfuls of sand and chucking them in front of her.

He debating leaving her to her malicious pruning but wasn't able to make his feet obey his mind's cry to leave her the hell alone. He made his way over and plopped down beside her. He sat with one leg straight out and the other bent. The arm that held the all important whisky bottle was propped up on his bent knee.

"Morning," he greeted.

"Afternoon," she replied shortly. "You smell."

He shrugged. "Spent the night on the beach."

She looked at him in shock. "Why?"

"Wanted to get back to my roots."

Charlie stared at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with a shake of her head. Brax shrugged his shoulders again, unperturbed.

"What are you doing out here? All alone? Without Phillip? Or Leah, or Ruby or Irene?" he pressed. "That never happens."

She gave him a wry smile, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She looked at him strangely. She just looked. He wasn't sure if she was actually looking at him and he shifted uncomfortably in the sand in response. She took a deep breath and said, rather anti-climatically, "I wanted to go for a walk."

"Right," he said.

"So I walked," she continued. "And walked and I walked here and got stuck on the stupid dune."

_Huh?_

Brax blinked. "What?"

"I just started walking what felt like a familiar path and I got to this stupid dune, got halfway up and couldn't haul myself the rest of the way." She huffed and chucked another handful of sand angrily.

"Arrgh," she cried, turning her chin to the sky. "I used to run up this damn dune." She flung her arms out in front of her and then let them flop heavily into her lap. Brax's eyes were drawn to her left hand. Her right hand splayed out as she gestured out to the sea while the other stayed clasped in a loose fist. Her fingers stayed bent and motionless even as he arms flailed.

"And now I can't even walk up the stupid thing without collapsing," she finished, oblivious to the way he stared at her hand. She swiped at her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Brax eyes flicked to hers as she finished her spiel, his protective instincts going into overdrive. "Collapsing?"

"Yeah, steep, uneven, moving surface with obstacles, great idea, Soph," she said sarcastically. She huffed for a moment and then took a deep breath. He swore he could see her counting to ten in her mind.

"Sorry," said with a sheepish smile. It took his breath away. She continued like she hadn't noticed that he had forgotten how to breathe. "Sometimes I get so frustrated and I just feel like going for a run to de-stress and I can't." She sighed, her shoulder dropping and her fingers tracing lazy patterns in the sand. She looked up and out. "I guess running is a pretty uptight way to relax anyway, right?"

"I've always thought so."

They sat silently together, staring out at the ocean. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He didn't dare look at her, but he couldn't help the small smile that had crept onto his face. He suddenly felt light and for the first time in the past two years, he felt calm.

"I know who you are," she blurted out, breaking the companionable silence. Brax's head whipped around to face her. He stared at her mouth agape, searching for something to say. He came up with nothing.

" Ruby gave me the Reader's Digest version of Charlie and Brax," she explained and he felt his heart drop a fraction further down towards his stomach. " I… I don't know what to say to you."

"Ya don't have to say anything, Charlie," Brax assured her, but he couldn't look at her anymore. He could feel her gaze burning into him, or maybe it was just the sunburn, but either way, he refused to turn to face her. He just tore at the weed in his hands, fiddling with the poor, tortured leaves. He was pretty sure there was a fine for pulling up these plants. "None of this is your fault."

"It's not yours either," she said quietly. He felt her gaze drop to the sand and he finally felt it was safe to turn to look at her.

_Oh, but it was, _he thought_._

"How would you know?" he voiced instead, his face toying with a playful smirk, "You don't remember a bloody thing!"

She stared at him affronted before smiling and throwing a handful of sand at him.

Separated from them by the wooden rail that signalled the transition from beach to esplanade, Phillip stood watching as Sophie and Brax sat together. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see them. Sitting together. They sat close to one another, their shoulders nearly touching, but never leaning in quite close enough to graze each other. He saw the way they avoiding looking at each other but couldn't help but check that the other was still there. They were deliberately not touching. Phillip felt anger building up inside of him.

He stormed down the ramp and across the sand but forced a look of worry to overtake his face as he came up behind the laughing pair.

"Sophie," he called. The laughing instantly ceased as she turned to look at his frantic approach.

"Phillip," she said surprised. She made no move to get up. "What's wrong?"

"What wrong?" he asked perplexed. "I wake up and you're gone and you don't answer your phone? I was worried. Anything could have happened to you."

"I just went for a walk."

Phillip bustled over to her and all but hauled Charlie to her feet. Brax watched with raised eyebrows as Charlie allowed him to dictate her movements. Phillip brushed sand off her shirt and the tops of her thighs. Sand Brax had put there. Brax looked down at his own sand flecked torso and his mouth quirked in a satisfied smile.

"You shouldn't be pushing yourself," Phillip scolded. "The doctors said stress wasn't good for you."

Charlie nodded and looked at the ground. She really was refusing to meet Brax's eyes this time. Brax stayed where he was as Phillip fussed over a perfectly fine and intact _Sophie_. "Come on," Phillip said.

"Guess I'll see you round then," Brax said, giving Charlie a cheeky smile. "Small town and all."

"Guess so," Charlie returned softly. She smiled coyly at him but allowed Phillip to steer her down the dune and back to the cement path. Brax watched them go, hand in hand. Her free hand gripped the railing to assist her up the incline and to Phillip's car.

Phillip looked back at Brax with a blank expression. Brax waved the bottle at him with a grin.

_Nah_, he thought, taking a swig of the whisky. He turned back to the waves and leant casually back on his elbows. _There was no way this was over._

_Game on, Mole._

_._

_._


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you to everyone who left a review (and threatened poor Phillip with bodily harm, you're a violent bunch!), especially Spotty37 who appreciated my attempt at titling and Ellie for her gentle prodding. :D

Also, a word to the wise, those who leave signed in reviews, do occasionally receive little tid bits of story in their inboxes, especially if I haven't updated in a while…which would be totally out of character, right. :/

**Tabula Rasa**

**Chapter 10**

_"Guess Soph spent a lot of time here." He stared at Brax, the 'with you' clearly implied to be at the end of his sentence hung in the air between them. "Guess it's one of the few night places this town has," Phillip said. "Except for The Sands."_

_Brax didn't respond. Phillip the Prick continued standing awkwardly in front of the bar. "Well I should get back to Sophie. " A sudden smile graced his features. "I'm sure there's still a few people in here we haven't been introduced to yet."_

_._

"_Having fun?'_

_She snorted, and he couldn't help but smile. She turned to face him and he could see the remnants of tears on her face, her makeup slightly smudged. He could see a light tear track running down her cheek. She reached out to him and he felt her fingers brush over his as she took the drink from his hand. She downed it in one go. She scrunched her face up and let out a small gasp as the liquid burned down her throat._

"_That was pretty impressive for someone who doesn't drink," he said, raising his eyebrows._

_._

_They sat silently together, staring out at the ocean. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He didn't dare look at her, but he couldn't help the small smile that had crept onto his face. He suddenly felt light and for the first time in the past two years, he felt calm._

_"I know who you are," she blurted. Brax's head whipped around to face her. He stared at her mouth agape, searching for something to say. _

_" Ruby gave me the Reader's Digest version of Charlie and Brax," she explained and he felt his heart drop a fraction further down towards his stomach. " I… I don't know what to say to you."_

_"Ya don't have to say anything, Charlie," Brax assured her, but he couldn't look at her anymore._

_. _

_"Sophie," he called. The laughing instantly ceased as she turned to look at his frantic approach._

_"Phillip," she said surprised. She made no move to get up. _

_"I just went for a walk."_

_"Guess I'll see you round then," Brax said, giving Charlie a cheeky smile. "Small town and all."_

_"Guess so," Charlie returned softly. She smiled coyly at him but allowed Phillip to steer her down the dune and back to the cement path. Brax watched them go, hand in hand. Her free hand gripped the railing to assist her up the incline and to Phillip's car. _

_Phillip looked back at Brax with a blank expression. Brax shook the bottle at him with a grin._

_**Nah,**__ he thought, taking a swig of the whisky. He turned back to the waves and leant casually back on his elbows in the sand. __**There was no way this was over**__._

_**Game on, Mole.**_

.

.

Sid Walker was usually an even tempered man. It took a lot to rile him up. It was one of the reasons he had gone into medicine in the first place. He had always been calm in a crisis, always one to take the lead. In a hospital he was never out of his element. He always knew what the next move was, even if that move was to do nothing at all, and it had been in the past. It was what he thought it had been with Charlie. He had done everything he could. He had trusted that those around him were too. But now he wasn't so sure. No, as he looked at a gaping blank space of what should have been Charlie Buckton's medical records, he didn't have a clue what his next move should be.

Really, he should never have been the one to treat Charlie. They were friends. But it was a small town and there were only so many doctors to go around. He had taken on the role of Charlie's caregiver not in spite of his relationship with her but because of it. He thought he could help her and when he was told he couldn't do that, he thought he could help those she loved. It he couldn't carry her through then he would carry them.

And he hadn't.

He looked around the nurses' station with a new found cynicism. He wondered which one of them had done it. Was it a nurse, a doctor, an orderly? Who had stepped in and erased the shooting from Charlie Buckton's medical records? Summer Bay was a small town; the hospital may have been in a central location but it was still a small hospital and there were only so many doctors who walked the halls. He had been forced to treat his friend. He had watched her struggle to survive; wiped her blood from his abdomen when it had soaked through his scrubs; watched as Brax had lost his grip on the world; watched as Ruby cried. He watched as life slipped away from her.

Charlie Buckton had been his friend. So he didn't need his friend's medical records to remember exactly which neurologist had looked him dead in the eye and told him that she was never coming back.

.

.

Brax had stayed on the beach for a while before hauling himself off home. He left his car in the Surf Club car park. He was pretty sure that he was still drunk from the night before, not to mention that his breakfast today had consisted of a swig of whisky and a mouthful of sand.

He sighed when he reached his front door. He could hear Heath, Bianca and Ruby had overtaken his lounge room. He couldn't decide if he was too drunk or not drunk enough for this impromptu meeting. He hung his head and gave it a light shake as he wrapped his hand around the handle. Once more unto the breach.

"Brax," Natalie cried as he entered the room. She was the first to see him from her spot at the back of the room, pushed up tightly against the brick. The other three, sitting tightly on the couch, fell silent at her greeting. Natalie was on her feet and looked like she longed to cross the room and fling herself at him, but she stood perfectly still beside the kitchen table instead, waiting for him to make the first move.

Yep, he was definitely too sober for this impromptu meeting.

He nodded at Natalie.

"Good night, mate?" Heath asked, waggling his eyebrows. Brax smacked him on the back of the head as he moved past Heath, tickled Rocco's stomach, and settled himself on the single armchair, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"Where is your shoe?" Ruby asked, pointing at his sock clad foot accusingly.

Brax shrugged. "So what's with this little mothers' meeting?"

"Nothing," Heath, Bianca and Ruby said in unison, all shrugging their shoulders unconvincingly and refusing to meet his eye.

"Spill," Brax demanded, eying off his younger brother.

"You left the party early, that's all," Heath offered, bouncing Rocco on his knee. "They were in a flap about it," he said, rocking his head towards Bianca and Ruby.

"We were not in a flap!" Bianca said indignantly. "We were not in a flap," she repeated calmly, "We were worried about him especially when he didn't come home last night? What is wrong with you?" she asked, rounding on Heath.

"Nothins wrong with me!" Heath defended himself. "I said he was probably just sleeping it off somewhere and would be back in the morning and hey, look, I was right. You two were the ones banging on about how he was lying dead somewhere."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon!" Bianca exploded, refusing to admit Heath had been anything close to right.

"Maybe we should all just calm down," Ruby interrupted. "The important thing is that Brax is back in one piece," her gaze flicked to shoeless foot and glared slightly at his black sock.

"Yep," Brax agreed. "And I am also hungry so..."

"Oh no you don't," Ruby said fiercely. "You will sit right there and listen to us."

Brax flopped back into the chair and looked at her expectantly. He crossed his arms over his chest. He could feel Natalie staring silently at him from across the room. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked to her. Sure, she has stayed over the other night but they had watched TV and gone to bed, he had been too distracted to be of much use to her.

"So did you talk to Charlie last night?" Ruby probed.

Brax met Natalie's eyes for a second. She was staring at him. She didn't look angry or hurt, she just looked at him with a small smile. He wondered what that meant. "For about a minute," Brax lied. "Honestly I've talked more with Phillip the Prick than Charlie."

Heath let out a snort. "Phillip the Prick," he repeated with a grin. "I like that. Uses personification. Nice."

"Alliteration, sweetie," Bianca corrected.

"Whatever. It's funny."

Bianca rolled her eyes and Brax fought the small smile that was on his lips. He glanced at Nat out of habit and found her eyes stuck to the floor. He cocked his head curiously for a second but was drawn back in to his own family as Ruby muttered away.

"Well, that's where Charlie gets all her opinions from."

"Yeah, what's with that?" Heath asked, putting a squirming Rocco on the floor. The young boy wobbled slightly and gripped the coffee table, shuffling around to his Uncle's legs and grabbed hold of the fabric. He bounced up and down happily, using Brax's legs for support. Brax smiled broadly at the boy as he listened to Heath. "I mean suddenly Buckton is a tea toddling vego? The woman used to scoff a meat lovers."

"Yeah," Ruby chimed in heartily, jumping right on board the bash Phillip the Prick train. "And he never lets her go anywhere by herself and she runs everything by him!"

"It gives me the creeps," Heath added, shuddering dramatically as if to prove his point. "Since when does Buckton go along with anything anyone says. She never listened to Brax!"

Ruby offered a few more examples but Brax wasn't listening. He was just watching Rocco play on the floor. He had gotten so big in such a small space of time. He barely remembered him being a baby anymore. Guess, he hadn't really seen him in the hospital all that much. He had been distracted. But now he was so big and bright. The docs may have said he was a little smaller than he should have been but still on the right track. They made Braxtons tough. Sometimes Brax thought you had to be tough in order to make it in this world as a Braxton.

"He does seem a little controlling," he heard Bianca concede.

"A little?" Ruby scoffed.

"Okay, a lot, but we don't know the whole story," she said quickly.

"Bianca's right," Natalie suddenly interrupted. Brax's head shot up and he met her eyes squarely. To be honest he had forgotten she was there, they all had. She just sort of blended into the brickwork.

Ruby glared at her. "It's really none of you business," she sniped.

Natalie ignored Ruby's comment, addressing Brax instead. "Think about," Natalie said. "From what you've said, Charlie and Phillip," she didn't use the lovely moniker Brax had given him, "met shortly after she woke up. Charlie would have woken up with no memory, no idea where she was and no identity. It makes sense that she would form her new identity around him. Taken on aspects of his personality."

"That's crap," Ruby asserted. "No matter what, she's still Charlie. He can't change that."

"You the one with the degree there, Rubes?" Brax cut in quietly. Ruby's mouth dropped, her face stinging with the perceived betrayal. Natalie looked at him gratefully. Brax had dropped his feet to the floor and his elbows rested on his knees. He propped his chin up with his hands, looking pensive.

"I think that if you knew more about their relationship you might not think he was so controlling," Natalie informed the group.

"So you reckon, Sophie," he emphasised the name, "is part Phillip?"

"No," Natalie shook her head. "I'm saying that Charlie was confused and hurt and Phillip was there for her." Brax's face hardened at her words. She cringed slightly at the stony look he gave her. "So as she was forming her new identity, she learnt and she grew from him," Natalie continued, deciding not to dwell on her poorly chosen phrasing. "I'm saying even if she gets every single one of her memories back, she may still have some of the character traits she learnt from him."

"Like Rocco?" Heath asked. "Kinda like how he gives me the same look Bianca does when she's mad and won't eat peas because I won't."

"Well genetics plays a role there too, obviously," Natalie said but was nodding all the same, 'but yes. What you're seeing in Charlie is learnt behaviour, just like a child learns from a parent or siblings."

"So Buckton is sleeping with her dad? Kinky."

Brax smacked Heath in the face with a pillow as Bianca slapped his arm and Ruby let out a disguised, "Gross, Heath."

.

.

Charlie sat outside the Diner, absently stirring the chocolate coated froth of her double shot cappuccino. Her eye lids felt heavy but her mind rejected her body's need to close them. She thought that getting up and going for a walk would clear her head. She had hoped that the sea air would revitalise her, or at least make her feel that she had had more than 4 hours sleep over the past week. The beach was meant to have that power with crisp sea air and all the other crap they sold to tourists. They didn't put in the brochure that all your outdoor furniture was going to rust prematurely and you'd need a constant supply of Gumption to hold off the mould and crusty salt residue build up.

She'd woken up with a head, clear of alcohol, but filled to the brim with sharp, jagged images that cut at her and didn't make sense. So she slid out of the bed and trudged down to the beach; her body falling into a familiar rhythm and following a map that her mind couldn't conjure.

Then there had been the stupid dune and Brax with his blue eyes and dimples. Him with his cheeky smile and alcohol seeping from his pores, strong enough to just about sting her eyes. But while he sat next to her, sprawled in the sand with a bottle of whisky hanging from his hand, her mind had stilled and the images had faded till she could breathe again.

He was gone now (hopefully to shower) and the images were back. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the distinct blur of fear loom over her. Feel the unwanted push of hands digging onto her thighs and hear a boy's laughter, stained by cruelty, wrench tears from within her. She would shudder and her skin would crawl and the image changed to Brax on his knees. A baseball capped head and oversized hoodie, blocked her view, but she was looking up at a thin figure pointing a gun at Brax's head. Her arm hurt.

She looked down at her hands, feeling warm, wet blood rolling down her fingers but clinging to her skin at the same time. She looked down expecting to see a pool of blood at her feet. It was never there. She stared at her hands; seethed in blood. It rolled and moved and ran off her hands but went nowhere. She scrubbed and wiped her hands on her shirt, howled and warm salt tears mixed themselves in with the blood, but the blood just receded into her skin, absorbed back into her own body. She dug her fingernails into her hands trying to get it back out again. Her photograph without a face. Scratched out.

"This isn't the first time I've made a girl cry." A grin. Pearly white, not quite straight teeth. Brown curls. " Like a sooky, little kid."

A hand curled around her shoulder making her jump. Her eyelids bolted open and the world rushed back with stark brightness. She blinked as the shadowy figure loomed over her and she felt bile rising in her throat. The harsh glare of the sun dipped behind his head and Phillip appeared, sitting down beside her and placing a comforting hand on her knee.

"You okay?" he asked concerned.

"Just tired." She smiled tightly, fobbing off his concern. He was always so concerned.

Phillip leaned back in his seat in a huff. He shook his head, his lips pursed. "I knew last night would be too much. I should have told Ruby-"

"No, no," Sophie said tiredly, cutting him off. She rubbed her forehead. "My head is just on overdrive, that's all. Nothing to do with Ruby and her stupid party."

Phillip looked at her sceptically. He folded his arms across his chest and studied her. He scowled at the highly caffeinated beverage in front of her but said nothing. He watched with narrowed eyes as Sophie took three long gulps of the liquid, draining half the mug.

"You know there are better alternatives to caffeine that have been proven just as effective-"

"Not now," Sophie begged.

"But they could be better for you. You know that your nerve endings-"

"Phillip! I don't care right now," Sophie snapped. Sophie looked at his taken back expression and sighed. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly. _Curly brown, sand filled hair, wet and limp on a cold morning. She shook her head._ "I'm sorry. You know what? I just want to go back to the hotel."

.

.

Brax flung himself into the shower, hoping that with his loss, the rest of them would disband and go back to their own damn homes.

He stood under the spray, letting the water wash away the scent of whisky, sweat and salt that clung to him. Warm water thrummed into his back, releasing the tension that had built up there over the past few weeks. He rolled his shoulders, once, twice, before turning his head to the shower head and letting the water batter his face, massaging his tired, bleary eyes through closed lids.

Brushing his hand back over his head, he caught sight of his tattoo. He lowered his hand and started at the stark black ink. He sighed before thrusting the water off and stepping out of the shower. That was a thought for another day.

He walked back in the lounge in a pair of boardies to find the room cleared but for Natalie. She sat at the kitchen table, her back stiff. A plate with two sandwiches, Panadol and a bottle of water in front of her.

She turned her head when she heard his approach and gave him an awkward smile. She stood up passing the plate and bottle then allowed him the peace to slump on the couch and eat.

He slurped water and downed the Panadol.

"I'll leave you to it," Natalie said, bending to peck his cheek

Brax nodded. "Cheers, Nat," he said, raising the empty plate from his lap.

Natalie nodded in return, then left, closing the door slowly behind her. Brax scrubbed his hands over his face.

.

.

Sid raised his hand and rapped on the open office door. "Dr. D'Aiola," Sid said, "Could I have a word?"

"Dr. Walker," the middle aged man replied surprised to see him. D'Aiola dropped his pen to the desk and lazed back in his chair. He waved Sid in. "I have a minute or two spare for a colleague."

D'Aiola was neither fat nor thin, but wore a layer of chub around his middle. His suit was a dark grey, the jacket hung up on a hanger in the corner of the room. His tie was a collection of orange and purple dots, his attempt at lively individualism, and he still wore the crumbs of his lunch on his crisp, white shirt. He still had a full head of hair but it was more salt than pepper, giving him the look of a before photo for a Just for Men commercial.

"I wanted to have a word with you about Charlie Buckton."

The man's gentile smile froze and he laced his hands together on his desk. He gripped his hands so tightly that Sid could see the white stress marks that bellied his attempt at a casual demeanour. His shoulders were tense and his back rod straight as he looked at Sid.

"I don't have anything to say on the matter of Sergeant Buckton."

"You were the consulting neurologist, a fact that has been conveniently erased from her medical records."

The doctor rose quickly from his chair, his speed causing his plush leather chair to spin around to face the back wall. He shuffled around his desk and strode past Sid to the door. He held the side, ready to close it on Sid's back. "I think you better leave."

"You stood there and told me Charlie was brain-dead," Sid said angrily, refusing to leave the office. "I had to tell Brax she was gone."

"The Inspector gave me a court order. I had no choice," D'Aiola protested hurriedly.

"You had a choice," Sid said quietly, disgust colouring his voice. He shook his head, prepared to leave, but then walked right up to D'Aiola and stopped mere millimetres from him. "You had better hope Darryl Braxton never finds out that you're the one who signed off on this."

"Are you threatening me?" the doctor asked, puffing out his chest in a display of bravado.

"No," Sid assured him, leaving the office slowly. "I'm giving you fair warning."

.

.

Brax received a text from Ruby that evening. She was having dinner with Charlie and Phillip at the Diner and wanted him to join. He begged off and received a none to complimentary reply before he settled into the couch with a can of baked beans and four slices of toast. He finished quickly and was absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the arm on the couch.

God, he was annoying the shit out of himself.

Fuck it, he thought and left the house.

The closer he got to the Diner, the worse idea this seemed but he was committed now. He got out his car slowly and took his time making his way through the car park and to the Diner. He wasn't stalling, he told himself, just hung over,

He was surprised when Charlie came rushing out the front doors, oblivious to him standing not two metres away. She had her phone glued to her ear and plopped herself down at an outside table, talking hurriedly.

She still hadn't seen him and he took the time just to watch her, his breath caught in his throat. She was wearing one of her dresses. Not one of the cute pastel dresses he's seen (or avoided seeing) her walking around town in but a bold orange and yellow dress that Charlie had liked. It was short with a plunging neckline outlined in black. Thin orange straps laced over her shoulders and ended low on her back. He assumed it was Ruby's doing.

With her back to him, he ran his eyes over her back, noting that in the evening glow of a slow dusk, her skin seemed lighter than he had ever seen it. Her tan faded despite living in the Sunshine State. It struck him as odd.

He glanced back at the Diner, briefly debating pretending never to have seen Charlie and to simply walk inside. Disregarding that option, he slipped into the seat beside her, earning himself a quick annoyed glance as she finished her conversation.

"Can't you just hold my job?" she was asking. "I was the one who proved Marcus was up to _way_ more than just his secretary and -" she stopped abruptly, listening with an ever deepening frown. She sighed. "Yeah, okay. I'll let you know. Yeah, bye."

She let the phone clatter the last few centimetres to the table.

"Boss?" he asked.

"Yeah. He wants to know when I'll be back."

"Right," Brax said. He leant forward onto the table, twisting his thumb ring slowly. "What'd you tell him?" he asked, refusing to make eye contact.

"That I don't know." She laughed humourlessly."Guess he has a right to be mad."

"What'd you do?" Brax asked curiously. He had spent so long avoiding her and then focusing on Phillip that he realised he didn't know the first thing about her life.

"Private Detective," she said proudly. Her shoulders came up slightly and a small smile graced her features.

Brax laughed heartily, relaxing back into the hard steel chair. "Guess you can take the girl out of the cop shop but you can't take the cop shop outta the girl."

She laughed with him. "Yeah, I guess a part of me will always be Detective Buckton."

Brax raised his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. "Detective, huh?"

"Not detective?" she asked him uncertainly.

"Nah," Brax said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Senior Sergeant."

"They gave me a posthumous promotion?" she said aghast. "Bastards."

Brax laughed. She smiled at him, enjoying spending time with him. It was good to see him smile. Every interaction they'd had since she got back had been strained even in their lightest moments but he had relaxed into her presence and Sophie couldn't help the bubble of happiness that welled up inside her. She liked seeing him smile. It made things better.

"So you woke up a detective but become Sophie Maxwell, P.I.," he said dramatically, earning an eye roll from Charlie. "Why didn't you stay on the force. You loved being a cop."

Charlie contemplated him quietly, searching for an answer to that ever elusive question. She had asked it of herself many times over the past year.

"I don't know," she said finally, her brows knitting together in aggravated concentration. "I just felt like it wasn't me anymore." She glanced behind her, craning her neck slightly to see into the Diner. Ruby was still sitting with Phillip, they hadn't eaten each other yet.

"I got there and it felt wrong, like it was me." She sighed. "Sitting behind that god awful desk. I felt like I was hiding and missing out on something. I don't know," she finished smiling and shrugging her shoulders. She waggled her eyebrows at him and continued ironically. "I felt like I was someone else."

"I don't know, ay," Brax said. "Seems like you had a shitload to get through, saw through all the bullshit they were feeding you and then worked damn hard to find Ruby. Sounds just like you to me."

She blushed and looked at the table. She crossed her arms across her chest and Brax couldn't help but look as the movements pushed her breasts up. He licked his lip lightly before dragging himself away from the tantalizing familiar flesh.

He cleared his throat and Charlie looked up at the sound. "You look nice," he said, gesturing vaguely towards her.

She looked down, suddenly self conscious. She pulled at the neck line ineffectually, trying to cover more flesh. "Thanks. Ruby brought a bunch of stuff over." Her face soured. "There are some jeans in there that will never fit me again. Seriously, I don't know how they ever could have!"

Brax smiled. "S'alright. You look good to me."

.

.

"Hey Leah," Natalie greeted as she walked tiredly up to the Diner's counter. "My lasagne ready?"

"Just give me five minutes," Leah apologised hurriedly. She checked over her shoulder and then continued conspiratorially. "Colleen had a mishap with the orders so we're a bit behind."

"That's no worries, I'll just take a seat." She strolled over to the far table, pausing slightly as she passed Ruby, Charlie and Phillip. She was just closing in on a new high score of Bejewelled Blitz when she saw Charlie rush past her in a flash of orange. Natalie watched her stride out, the fabric swishing around brown legs.

She was about to turn back to her game, unconcerned with Charlie's frantic phone call when she saw Brax moving like a cold turtle towards to Diner. She watched as he spotted Charlie and cringed as his eyes travelled hungrily up and down her body.

Natalie cocked her head as Brax took one step towards the diner, paused, shook his head and turned on his heel, striding determinedly over to Charlie. With the slight distance and noise of the Diner behind her, she couldn't make out what they were saying but she knew they were laughing.

Brax was relaxed, sitting there with Charlie, unabashedly staring at her cleavage. Her boyfriend look more content then he had in months. Her eyes stung as the oblivious pair looked at each other coyly, flirty smiles set on their faces.

Natalie was ripped from her stupor as Leah bustled over, apologising profusely as she set the brown paper bag bearing the Pier Diner logo on the table.

Natalie swiped at her eyes quickly, turning away as she thanked Leah.

"Oh my god, Natalie," Leah said, pulling Natalie around to face her again. "Are you okay? What happened?

"Nothing." Leah just look at her sternly. "No really," Natalie said, trying to convince herself and Leah, "It's nothing. I'm just being silly."

"Can't be too silly if its making you cry," Leah pointed out.

Natalie couldn't help but look behind her, drawing Leah's gaze with her. It was like she couldn't pull away, couldn't stop watching them as they reacquainted themselves. It hurt. She was losing him to a ghost made flesh.

"Oh, Nat," Leah sympathised as she took in the sight of Brax and Charlie sitting and taking at one of her tables. Leah closed her eyes briefly and looked back at Natalie. Her eyes had fogged over again and silent tears rolled down her face. "Maybe it would be better if you stayed with me when your lease runs out," Leah suggested.

Natalie sniffed and nodded. "Thanks, Leah. I might just take you up on that."

"Just until you and Brax work out the details, okay?" Leah smiled brightly and rubbed Natalie's arm.

_Yeah_, Natalie thought, sneaking one last peek at the star-crossed lovers,_ just until they worked out the details._

Across the car park a shutter snapped quickly, capturing the moment in a small digital screen.

.

.

Thoughts? Speculations? Ideas? Questions? Complaints? Wild, creatively worded compliments singing my eternal praises? I'll take them all!


	11. Chapter 11

**Tabula Rasa**

**Chapter 11**

_Previously__:_

_Ruby glared at her. "It's really none of you business," she sniped. _

_Natalie ignored Ruby's comment, addressing Brax instead. "Think about," Natalie said. "From what you've said, Charlie and Phillip," she didn't use the lovely moniker Brax had given him, "met shortly after she woke up. Charlie would have woken up with no memory, no idea where she was and no identity. It makes sense that she would form her new identity around him. Taken on aspects of his personality."_

_"That's crap," Ruby asserted. "No matter what, she's still Charlie. He can't change that."_

_._

_"What'd you do?" Brax asked curiously. He had spent so long avoiding her and then focusing on Phillip that he realised he didn't know the first thing about her life._

_"Private Detective," she said proudly. Her shoulders came up slightly and a small smile graced her features._

_Brax laughed heartily, relaxing back into the hard steel chair. "Guess you can take the girl out of the cop shop but you can't take the cop shop outta the girl."_

_She laughed with him. "Yeah, I guess a part of me will always be Detective Buckton." _

_Brax raised his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle. "Detective, huh?"_

_"Not detective?" she asked him uncertainly._

_"Nah," Brax said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Senior Sergeant."_

_"They gave me a posthumous promotion?" she said aghast. "Bastards."_

_Brax laughed. She smiled at him, enjoying spending time with him. It was good to see him smile. _

_Across the car park a shutter snapped quickly, capturing the moment in a small digital screen. _

_._

_._

Brax had fallen into a routine since moving to Summer Bay. He would go for an early morning surf (providing his family wasn't piling all their problems onto him) and then head to the Diner for a coffee. He had a perfectly good coffee machine sitting on the bar at Angelo's. A perfectly good and expensive coffee machine that he had taken a three hour course in operating and offered him coffee that was essentially free as opposed to the four dollars he paid to Irene and Leah. But it was his routine and somehow it was just a better Styrofoam cup of coffee when it was served to him at the Diner. They didn't even use a different supplier. Leah had organised a good deal for him, but somehow it was better.

Brax liked his routine. He liked waking up each morning and knowing what was going to happen, at least for a little while there were no surprises, good or bad, to rock his world. So on a cool Tuesday morning, timed so that he missed the before school and school drop off coffee club that seemed to take place at in the am every weekday morning, he found himself walking out of the Diner with the biggest cup of coffee the Diner offered. He still had an hour before he even had to think about Angelo's for the day and he was looking forward to sitting outside and watching the waves.

Apparently, Charlie had had the same idea. He saw her sitting at one of the outside tables, her phone stuck to her ear. She was talking animatedly and nodding along to the conversation. He began to walk up to her when shifted in her seat. He paused and watched as she comfortably carried on the conversation while holding the phone with only her shoulder. Her left hand sat in her lap while her right hand reached for a pen. She barely paused as she tore the pen lid off with her mouth and spat the lid onto the table. She was jotting down notes onto a notebook.

"Two weeks…no that is perfect actually…good, good…. Not thank you! You have no idea what this means. I really appreciate it."

She rested the pen on the paper and held the phone in her right hand again, leaning her elbow of the table. She said her goodbyes and sat back happily, her phone resting on the table. She reached for the pen and chased the lid across the page for a moment before managing to slid the lid onto the pen. Her left hand came up and she pushed the lid on with the side of her hand, her curled thumb acting as a solid surface.

"Brax? Brax?"

Brax nearly jumped out of his skin as Leah came up behind him, smiling and slapping him lightly on the arm.

"Morning," he said slightly embarrassed.

"You were in your own little world," Leah said with a bright, friendly smile. She turned her back slightly to him as she collected the plates and cups from the table beside him.

"Yeah," he agreed, "I was just watching …the waves." He pointed out towards the ocean, calm and still.

Leah looked up and her gaze followed his arm. Dipping her sight to just below his forearm, she noticed Charlie's familiar profile sitting at a nearby table, scribbling away in her notebook. "Yeah, I'm sure it's the ocean commanding your undivided attention," she mocked good naturedly.

Brax just smiled at her. "Well I better go, Angelo's doesn't run itself, much as I would like it too."

Leah nodded and watched as he took the first few steps towards his restaurant. She briefly considered not saying anything. It really was none of her business, but then her urge to protect both her friends was too strong and she caved in to the need to interfere. "Brax," she called, just loud enough to catch his attention without Charlie overhearing.

He turned quickly to face her with an expectant expression.

"You know Natalie is staying with me, right?"

"Yeah," he said, slightly perplexed. "She told me the other day."

"And you don't see anything wrong with that?"

"No. Why? Do you?"

"No, that's not what I meant," she quickly assured him. "But," she paused and gave him a look that he couldn't quite discern. A look of pity, laced with anger and concern. "Didn't you two have a plan?" she asked.

Brax shifted his weight and sighed. "Would you just make your point, Leah, and stop beating around the bush?"

Leah glanced back at Charlie and the put the plates back down on the table she had just cleared. She closed the distance between her and Brax. "You and Natalie had planned to move in together when her leased lapsed and I know," she raised her hands defensively, waving off his counter arguments. "I know that Charlie coming back has complicated things but maybe you have to work out what is going on between you and Charlie, and let Nat know."

"There's nothin' going on between me and Charlie," Brax replied shortly.

"Brax," Leah started. She frowned and inclined her head to the side.

"Nup. Leah, look if Natalie wants to live with you that's her choice, it's got nothing to do with me."

"It has everything to do with you," Leah argued, her hands flying to her hips, readying herself for a verbal stoush. But Brax was having none of it.

"I gotta go."

"No wait, Brax." Leah threw her arms up in annoyance. "Brax!"

At the sound of Brax's name, Charlie whipped around in her seat but could only watch as Brax powered away from Leah and disappeared around the corner.

She wandered back into the hotel room with a smile. She dropped her bag on the counter and flopped down on the bed. She had a slow morning but she was so tired.

"That you, Soph?" Phillip called from the bathroom.

"Who else would it be," she muttered but called out in the affirmative all the same.

"Great timing," he replied, "I'm just on hold with the airline."

Sophie sat bolt upright and stumbled to her feet. She opened the bathroom door to find Phillip sans shirt, brushing his teeth. His phone sat on the sink, a recorded message reverberating around the small room assuring him that his call was important to them. He gargled some Listerine and turned to give her a kiss. She turned her cheek to him but still felt the light tingle of the mentholated liquid burn her skin.

"Why are you on hold with the airline?"

"Confirming out flights," he replied as if this was the most natural thing in the world. He smiled and sauntered forward, wrapping his arms around her body, so that his fingers sat low on back. Reflexively, Sophie raised her arms to rest on his biceps. Her right, curled around the tattooed muscle of his arm while the left rested clenched against his flesh. "I'm even going to use some of my Frequent Flyer Points to upgrade us to business class," he bragged, waggling his eyebrows.

Sophie untangled himself from his hold. "I'm not going," she informed him. She turned and walked back to the main room.

"Soph, we have jobs and a life to get back to," Phillip argued. "I've already turned down a job to be here, Tony's ringing you twice a day-"

"I quit," Sophie interrupted.

"What?" Phillip stopped. Her face was set with unfamiliar stubborn lines crossing her features. He stared t her.

"You love that job."

"I do."

He sat down on the bed, stunned. He looked up at her. "You worked so hard to get it."

"I did."

He stared at her. This wasn't happening. "How can you just give all that up?"

"She's my daughter."

"That doesn't change because we go home!"

"I'm not going back -at least," she added hurriedly, "not for a while."

Phillip couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But we agreed," he said dumbly. He stared at her. "We agreed that we would come for a couple of weeks and come home."

"Things are different now," Sophie insisted. "I have Ruby to think about."

"And Brax," Phillip scoffed, standing up and scuffing the floor.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sophie crossed her arms across her chest.

"You know what it means," Phillip accused. "You've always known," he added quietly.

"What-" She was cut off by a harsh knock at the door.

Phillip glared at the still closed door. He huffed as he stalked over and unchained the door.

Three men stood outside the room. Phillip took hold of the door, his free hand resting on the door frame, readying himself to slam the door in their faces.

Sophie walked up behind Phillip. He took a further step in front of her. She made note of the three men; their causal boardies and singlets bellying their intimidating stance. They loomed into the doorway, arms crossed over muscled chests.

"Looking good there, Sergeant Buckton," one of the men whistled. The three men smiled when they saw her, looking her up and down approvingly. The man who had spoken stood between the others, just ever so slightly ahead of them. Short brown hair, slightly matted from the sea, a full sleeve of tattoos.

"Can I help you?" she asked harshly.

"Just wanted to see how you were," the middle man said. He leant forward conspiratorially, "You being back from the dead and all."

The others took their cue to laugh.

Sophie kept her face a firm scowl. "Well now you've seen I'm good as new, how about you move along?"

Phillip glanced back at her. She was using her hard tone. A tone he'd only started hearing since they'd come to Summer Bay. "I suggest you leave before we call the police," he growled.

The middle surfer, the leader raised his hands and took a step back with a smile while the other two whistled mockingly at Phillip's show of bravado.

"No need to get feisty there, mate," the surfer said."Just paying an old friend a visit."

"Well you've done that. Now piss off," Phillip snarled. He pushed Sophie back lightly, and pushed the door closed. Or at least he tried too. The two lackey surfers surged forward, slamming their palms against the door. They shoved their shoulders hard against the wood and forced their way into the hotel room. Sophie stumbled backwards as the force of the door hit Phillip into her. She ended up sprawled on the floor by the bed. Phillip standing just a few feet in front of her.

"Now, now boys," the surfer said, strolling into the room and taking a look around. "We don't want anything rash to happen, right?" he asked, directing his faux friendly words towards Phillip. Phillip made to move towards the three men who had invaded the room.

"Stop, Phillip!" Sophie commanded. She crawled over to the bed and used it to haul herself up to a standing positing.

"Maybe not quite good as new," the surfer observed, cocking his head to the side. Sophie glared at him. His smile never faltered. "Oh still got a bit of spark left in ya then."

"What do you want?" Sophie demanded. She adopted a bored stance and folded her arms across her chest in a fruitless attempt to hide her lack lustre left hand beneath her forearm.

"Just got a little message for you, Serge, and then we'll be off. " The surfer ignored Phillip's protests as he moved past him. Phillip reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder, spinning him around. The surfer glanced at his friends who made their presence known by Phillip's side, latching onto his elbow. Sophie watched as Phillip struggled against their grip and closed her eyes briefly as they forced him down to his knees. His yelp of pain cut through the black behind her eyes. She opened eyes to find the leader of the mini surf gang standing in front of her. Sophie gulped down her discomfort and tilted her head back slightly, as the surfer stopped a breath from her.

"Jake," he paused, a sadistic smile gracing his tanned face, "Jake just wanted you to know how…happy it made him that you were all fixed up."

She was forced to look up to him as he inspected her face. He lifted a hand and trailed it lightly down her face, outlining her eye and moving to her lips. She wrenched her face away but didn't move out from in front of him. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid of him.

"Really?" Sophie asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah," the surfer intoned, "And he wanted you to tell Darryl that this means that they're not even. Darryl is still ahead and Jake, well Jake, doesn't think that is exactly fair."

The surfer smiled as Sophie stood lost for words in front of him. He took a few steps backwards and then cocked his head to the side. "Come on, boys. Let's leave the Serge to her new playmate."

The surfers smiled and released Phillip with more force that was necessary. He fell forward and had to flail for a few seconds to stop himself crashing face first into the floor.

"We'll be seeing you, Serge," the surfer assured her as he casually followed his two mates out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Sophie stood, staring at where the three men had just been, breathing heavily. She ignored Phillip as he started yelling about the threats and going to the police. She unfolded her arms and let the drop to her side as Phillip brushed past her to find his phone. He barely had it unlocked when Sophie snatched it from him and threw it across the room.

"What the fuck, Sophie?"

Sophie didn't say a word to him as she turned on her heel and stormed out the hotel room. Phillip stood there dumbstruck before following her out.

Reviews make me happy and happy people write!


	12. Chapter 12

**Tabula Rasa**

**Chapter 12**

5 more reviews till 150. Come on people, help me reach a milestone! 150th reviewer gets a figurative gold star and a cookie or a drabble or something - I should have thought this author's note through.

I was writing this chapter when I should have been sleeping and writing reports. Damn you, gainful employment! *shakes fist* This chapter also includes one of my favourite jokes. 10 points if you can guess what it is.

.

.

_Previously:_

_"What do you want?" Sophie demanded. She adopted a bored stance and folded her arms across her chest in a fruitless attempt to hide her lack lustre left hand beneath her forearm._

_"Just got a little message for you, Serge, and then we'll be off. " The surfer ignored Phillip's protests as he moved past him. Phillip reached out and grabbed the man's shoulder, spinning him around. The surfer glanced at his friends who made their presence known by Phillip's side, latching onto his elbow. Sophie watched as Phillip struggled against their grip and closed her eyes briefly as they forced him down to his knees. His yelp of pain cut through the black behind her eyes. She opened eyes to find the leader of the mini surf gang standing in front of her. Sophie gulped down her discomfort and tilted her head back slightly, as the surfer stopped a breath from her. _

_"Jake," he paused, a sadistic smile gracing his tanned face, "Jake just wanted you to know how…happy it made him that you were all fixed up."_

_She was forced to look up to him as he inspected her face. He lifted a hand and trailed it lightly down her face, outlining her eye and moving to her lips. She wrenched her face away but didn't move out from in front of him. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid of him._

_"Really?" Sophie asked, raising her eyebrows._

_"Yeah," the surfer intoned, "And he wanted you to tell Darryl that this means that they're not even. Darryl is still ahead and Jake, well Jake, doesn't think that is exactly fair."_

_The surfer smiled as Sophie stood lost for words in front of him. He took a few steps backwards and then cocked his head to the side. "Come on, boys. Let's leave the Serge to her new playmate."_

_The surfers smiled and released Phillip with more force that was necessary. He fell forward and had to flail for a few seconds to stop himself crashing face first into the floor. _

_"We'll be seeing you, Serge," the surfer assured her as he casually followed his two mates out of the room and closed the door behind him._

_Sophie stood, staring at where the three men had just been, breathing heavily. She ignored Phillip as he started yelling about the threats and going to the police. She unfolded her arms and let the drop to her side as Phillip brushed past her to find his phone. He barely had it unlocked when Sophie snatched it from him and threw it across the room._

_"What the fuck, Sophie?"_

_Sophie didn't say a word to him as she turned on her heel and stormed out the hotel room. Phillip stood there dumbstruck before following her out. _

_._

_._

Sophie didn't stop when she got outside the hotel room. She walked with purpose to the car park, ignoring Phillip's questions and protests as she found their car.

"Wait, Soph." Phillip darted in front of her and held her shoulders in place.

"Let go of me."

Phillip released her instantly, her tone brokering no argument. He allowed her to walk past him and to settle herself in the car. He rushed around and jumped into the passenger seat which earned him a glare from Sophie but she said nothing. She said nothing on the drive, she said nothing as they pulled up out the front of the Surf Club and she said nothing as she stormed towards Angelo's.

She moved up the stairs with an ease borne of rage and determination.

"Brax," she thundered, as she reached the landing. "Brax!"

Brax looked up from his books in and across the empty restaurant in shock. "Charlie? What-"

"You want to tell me why I just had three surfers threatening me in my hotel room?" she thundered as she came to a stop across the bar from him.

Brax dropped his pen and leant on the bar. "What? What happened?"

"You tell me. Three men just forced themselves into my hotel room."

"Are you okay? What happened? Who were they?" He shot the questions off in quick succession, fear and worry welling up within him.

"Well considering they came with a message from Jake, I think it's safe to say it was a few of his boys."

Brax slammed his fists down on the bar. "Shit. "

Phillip stood in the middle of the restaurant, outside the main conversation. He was breathing heavily and his hands were clenched into tight fists. "Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

Sophie glanced behind her in annoyance, before looking back to Brax. "I want to know exactly who is threatening me," she demanded. She glared at Brax.

"I don't - I don't know," he swore. He rubbed his hand over his face and through his hair. "I haven't heard anything."

"Then find out."

Phillip moved forward, taking his place next to Sophie. "What is going on?" he repeated, resisting the urge to plead and instead focusing on the anger that Sophie had once again lead back to Brax. "Why can _he_ find out?"

"He'll ask the boys to have a look around. I'm sure they'll all be keen to help out," Sophie replied with venom, not sparing a glance for Phillip as she kept angry eyes trained on Brax.

Phillip scoffed. "What good will that do? We should go to the police. Let them sort it out."

"Are you crazy?" Sophie looked at him in shock, as if he had just grown an extra head and had a tail protruding from his stomach. It stung him and he felt his heart clench as he bypassed him completely. "Last time I trusted the police with this they stole my life. Brax will find out who exactly it is and I'll handle the rest."

"I'm not sure that's a great idea, ay," Brax said uncertainly.

"I agree. We need to go to the police," Phillip said hurriedly, trying to infuse his voice with some authority. He was looking straight at Sophie but she was still locked in a battle of wills with Brax; both refusing to drop the other's gaze. "They can find this Darryl and _they_ can handle the rest."

Sophie turned and faced Phillip with an intense look of incredulity on her face. She pointed across the bar. "_He's_ Darryl Braxton."

"What?"

"Did you think his name was actually Brax Braxton?" Charlie scoffed. "Not even Cheryl is that cruel."

Brax was taken back from a moment, staring at Sophie with a mixture of narrowed eyed anger and awe. The look stayed only for a moment as Phillip's eyes flicked between them.

"What does he have to do with any of this?" Phillip cried, annoyed and confused. "Why do they want a message passed to him?"

"What?" Brax interrupted, leaning heavily across the bar and pulling Sophie in. "What is he talking about? What exactly did they say?"

"Does it matter?"

"You," Brax said, pointing at Phillip and glaring. "Spill."

"He said that you and Jake were no longer even and that it wasn't fair," Phillip obliged, ignoring the betrayed glare Sophie painted him with. He didn't care. He just wanted answers. He was sick of constantly being out of the loop. He had a deep, black bruises forming on his body from where he had been forced to the ground and he wanted to know why. And he wanted to know exactly what the man in front of him had to do with it.

Brax let out a deep breath and pushed himself away from the bar. "I'll handle it."

"Wait," Phillip cried. "What does that mean? You know what this is all about," he accused.

"It means," Sophie said, "Jake's looking for revenge for …" she trailed off, racking her brain for an elusive name, a wisp of a memory. "For, um… Wrench? Spanner? Toolbox?"

"Hammer," Brax supplied.

"Revenge?" Phillip probed.

"Hammer is Jake's brother," Brax said exasperatedly .

"He's dead," Sophie said, looking to Brax for confirmation. Her eyes searched his for the answer that she couldn't quite bring up.

"Yep and he blames me." Brax sighed. "I'll ask around, see if the boys have heard of anything."

"You do that," Sophie said, tucking her confusion away behind a wall of harsh eyes and a cold stance. "It's your fault after all."

Sophie watched as his face fell and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly with barely disguised torment. His shoulders slumped and Sophie could see pain infusing his body as she looked at him.

Brax stared back at her. He hung his head and let out a single humourless laugh. "Yeah, it's my fault and I'll handle it," he said. He wouldn't meet her eyes as he pushed off the bar and away from the invading couple.

"Wait, Brax-" Sophie started softly, reaching out ineffectually across the bar.

"I'll let you know if I find out anything," he added as he made his way out from the bar and back towards the kitchen.

Sophie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "I didn't mean _that_."

.

.

Sophie slumped into the hard wooden chair of their hotel room. The amount of money they were paying for this room she had at least expected a cushioned chair, but the thick wound wicker cut into her back and the hard, flat seat bit into her thighs.

Phillip was pacing in front of her, ranting, imploring her to go to the police. "If you don't I will," he threatened.

"What will that accomplish?" Sophie asked tiredly. "It's not like they did a good job at calming anything down last time."

"This is different," Phillip insisted.

"Why? Because now I'm a slower moving target?"

Phillip stared at her in shock. His eyes were wide and she could see the wild, unadulterated panic within them.

"Look, I get it," Sophie said soothingly. "You're scared, but we're not up to the police stage yet. Nothing has happened."

"Yet!" he cried. "Nothing has happened _yet_. Like nothing had happened before you got shot!"

"Plenty had happened before I got shot," Sophie said softly. Phillip began protesting again. Sophie rubbed her temples in small, slow circles. "I'm going for a walk - don't call the police while I'm gone!"

.

.

Brax stood on the grass in the back yard, a piece of sandpaper clasped in his hands. He cocked his head staring at the wardrobe that covered half the area. It was well made and had beauty to its construction. Strong and sturdy, it would last for years and never need any work done to it. All he had to do was finish it. Put in the shelves, sand it back and give it a fresh coat of oil. Minor maintenance on what had been a bargain. Heath had told him just to use the electric sander but he wanted to do it himself. Didn't want to rush the job.

.

.

Charlie walked up to the back door of the Braxton's, peering through the curtains as she passed. She knocked once, twice. There was no answer. He wasn't at the restaurant, he wasn't at the Diner, if he wasn't here that only left the surf and there was way too much beach for her to cover. She huffed and turned to leave. She had almost made it past the carport when a toolbox caught her eye.

It was sitting on a bench amongst a collection of bike parts, surf board wax and a myriad of other 'shed' items that she didn't care to catalogue. It was big and blue, with flakes of rust at the edges. The lock of the tool box was broken so she was able to lift the lid with relative ease. It was heavy. The lid lifted to reveal a series of inbuilt shelves filled to the brim with nuts, bolts, screws, and right down the bottom left hand corner, in a small magnetic box, the spare house key.

She ran her hand along the wood of the bright blue door and let herself in. She turned and she surveyed the living room. The empty beer bottles and pizza boxes, Pier Diner bags overflowing from the bin. A surfboard propped up in the corner, the fine layer of dust on the white cubes on the wall, at least one displaying nothing more than a can of beer. All so familiar, yet she would swear that she had never once step foot inside these walls. Never once curled up on the couch, never eaten at the table. She had never been here before; it was a truth wrapped tightly in a lie.

She could hear faint noises coming from out the backyard. She cut through the kitchen and laundry, her body knowing its way when her mind did not. She pushed open the side door and walked straight into a cloud of sawdust.

She coughed, waving her hand in front of her face to clear the dust.

"Charlie?" Brax asked surprised. "What're you doing here?" He raised the sandpaper back up and began harshly sanding the wardrobe. Back and forth. Back and forth. Charlie watched as his arm worked. The muscle tensing and relaxing.

"Could you stop that for a second please?"

He stopped mid-stoke and turned to look at her. He dropped the sandpaper to the grass and battered his hands against his pants, dusting them off. He waited for her to speak, staring at her with raised eyebrows.

"I wanted to apologise," she said, moving forward off the porch to stand on the grass just a few metres from him. "For earlier. What I said…I didn't mean it."

"No need to apologise," Brax said gruffly. He leant down to scoop up the sandpaper once more. He went back to sanding the wood, intent on ignoring her, small puffs of sawdust exploding from the edges of the wood into the air around him. "You weren't wrong."

"Yes, I was," she said firmly. "None of this was your fault."

He continued sanding, the wood become pale and smooth beneath his hands. Beads of sweat had begun to form on his brow. He steadfastly refused to look at her.

"Brax," Charlie tried again, shying away from the fine mist of 40 year old varnish and wood. "It wasn't and this thing with Pirovic now-"

"I told ya I was going to handle it," he exclaimed, stepping away from the wardrobe in frustration.

"That's what worries me," Charlie confessed. "I don't want you to do anything stupid."

"Why would you think that?"

"What?"  
"Why would you think that I was going to do something stupid?"

"I just- it doesn't matter. Just don't."

"Nah, see what I reckon is that you remember a hell of a lot more than you let on," he said. He levelled it at her as an accusation. His tone was conversational and light but she could hear the vein of seriousness pulsing beneath his words.

"I can't control what I remember and what I don't," she said crossing her arms defensively across her chest.

"Yeah, but its really convenient what you do remember, isn't it?" he argued. He took a step towards her. "Mum's names, the boys."

"My god, is that what this is about? Because I remembered a few little details?" she asked with an incredulous laugh. She dropped her arms to her sides and shook her head. "Well, guess what, I remember a lot of small details but that's it. I don't know who you are and I don't remember anything about us, so is it really better for you if I run to you everything something is familiar. Does that make you _feel_ better?"

Brax stayed silent.

"That's what I thought. So just get me the names and stay out of it. I don't need you to protect me." She turned to leave, regretting ever having made the trek over here.

"Really?" he called to her retreating back. "Your performances lately would suggest otherwise."

She whirled back around to face him. "My performances?"

"Yeah this frail little bird routine you have going on; having to ask Phillip's permission for every bloody thing," he pressed.

"I do not ask him permission!" she cried affronted. "And What do you mean frail little bird?"

"You! With the limp and never using your hand."

"I had a stoke! I can barely feel the whole left hand side of my body."

"Alright fine. You might not over get back to where you were," Brax conceded, "but you could be as strong as you wanted and ya don't." He was on a roll now. He had opened the flood gates and couldn't stop. One opinion had lead to all of them spilling out of him. "You could go to the gym, lift weights- I don't care how heavy they are and get your body stronger but you don't and then," he cried, "and then you complain about it and run like some helpless chick to Phillip- And don't even get me started on Phillip. I'm sick of it," he finished, waving his hands in front of him, slashing at the air. "Sick of all of it."

"You're sick of it?" she cried. "That's rich. You haven't had to live with it for the past _two_ years. You weren't there," Charlie screamed. "You have no idea what I went through, so don't think that because you see me walking and talking now that you have any idea what it was like."

.

.

Natalie walked up the Brax's. She could instantly hear yelling coming from the back yard, barely muffled by the front door. She rushed through the house and to the back yard to find Brax and Sophie standing centimetres apart screaming into each other's faces. Their faces were red and Natalie could see a vein in Brax's forehead pulsing under the strain. His fists were clenched and his body rigid. He dwarfed Sophie but she stood toe to toe with him, her hands waving wildly in the air.

"Oh right," she scoffed, "because Big Brother Brax always has to solve everybody's problems. God forbid someone work something out without you. Do you keep your white horse and shining armour in the wardrobe?" she asked scornfully. "I don't need you to save me."

"Really. Then why did you come to me the second something went wrong?"

"I did not," she bit back. She was one wrong syllable away from petulantly stomping her foot on the ground.

"I didn't see you turning to the great and powerful Phillip to solve your problems earlier today," Brax mocked, his hands spread out wide, welcoming whatever comeback she had.

"I'm not asking you to solve my problems! I'm asking you for a little bit of information." She took a deep breath." God this was a stupid idea," she said to herself. "I just wanted to apologise, but I should have know that there was no point trying to actually have a conversation with you. I don't know why I bothered."

"I don't either, ay."

Charlie shook her head. Brax went back to scrubbing furiously at the wardrobe. Charlie's eyes widened as she spun around to see Natalie standing, mouth agape, in the doorway and rendered silent by the scene she had just witnessed.

"Natalie," she intoned. Natalie flattened herself against the door way to let her pass. Brax whipped his head around and briefly met Natalie's eyes before he turned back to the wardrobe. He gave a few harsh strokes of the sandpaper before throwing the worn out and abused piece to the ground.

"I'm going for a surf," Brax muttered as he brushed past Natalie. Natalie cringed as she heard the front door slam.

She stood alone looking at the half completed wardrobe.

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.

"I'd never seen Brax like that, Leah," Natalie said as she stood before the counter at the Diner. "I mean I've seen him angry but this was different. It was kind of scary."

"Well they have a lot of baggage to get through," Leah said, doing her best to comfort a forlorn Natalie. She had a gorgeous chocolate mud cake she was about to bring out too. "It's understandable that they would have some… issues… flare up occasionally."

"No, it was more than that," Natalie paused, shaking her head. "The way they were yelling at each other-"

"I wouldn't be too concerned about that, Nat," Heath said from behind her. He slapped a twenty on the counter and tucked his wallet into his back pocket. "Brax and Buckton have always been fighters. They fight, they make up, they fight, they make up. It's kind of their thing. Guess some things never change, huh? Thanks for the grub, Leah." He gave her the thumbs up.

He smiled, inordinately happy with himself, and walked out of the Diner without looking back. Leah scowled at his back, cursing him for throwing that particular grenade into the mix. This was exactly what she had been worried about. There was no way this wasn't going to end with broken hearts and damaged friendships. There was no happily ever after waiting on the horizon.

"Don't listen to him," Leah told Natalie all the same. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. You know Heath, he's just trying to stir you up and cause problems."

"Maybe," Natalie conceded. "Or maybe he just knows his brother."

.

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Reviews, reviews, the magical fruit. The more you leave, the more chapters to boot!

...That did not work.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you to all those who have favourite-ed, followed or PM'd and a special thank you to those who took the time to leave a review. Even if you only dropped by to rather unhelpfully call me boring. Special thank you to Gem who was reviewer number 150! Yay! Sparkles! Glitter! Confetti! Unicorns! Puppies! Rainbows!

Short update, I know, but I didn't want put anything else with it. I didn't feel I could just continue without a clear, significant beak. I hope you enjoy it and hopefully another update will be up soon.

**Tabula Rasa**

**Chapter 13**

_Previously:_

_._

_"Yeah, but it's really convenient what you do remember, isn't it?" he argued. He took a step towards her. "Mum's names, the boys." _

_"Is that what this is about? Because I remembered a few little details?" she asked with an incredulous laugh. She dropped her arms to her sides and shook her head. "I don't need you to protect me." _

_"Really?" he called to her retreating back. "Your performances lately would suggest otherwise."_

_She whirled back around to face him. "My performances?"_

_"Yeah this frail little bird routine you have going on; having to ask Phillip's permission for every bloody thing," he pressed. _

_"I do not ask him permission!" she cried affronted. "And what do you mean frail little bird?"_

_._

_"Oh right," she scoffed, "because Big Brother Brax always has to solve everybody's problems. God forbid someone work something out without you. Do you keep your white horse and shining armour in the wardrobe?" she asked scornfully. "I don't need you to save me."_

_"I didn't see you turning to the great and powerful Phillip to solve your problems earlier today," Brax mocked, his hands spread out wide, welcoming whatever comeback she had._

_"I'm not asking you to solve my problems! I'm asking you for a little bit of information." She took a deep breath." God this was a stupid idea," she said to herself. "I just wanted to apologise, but I should have know that there was no point trying to actually have a conversation with you. I don't know why I bothered."_

_Charlie shook her head. Brax went back to scrubbing furiously at the wardrobe. Charlie's eyes widened as she spun around to see Natalie standing, mouth agape, in the doorway and rendered silent by the scene she had just witnessed. _

_"I'm going for a surf," Brax muttered as he brushed past Natalie. Natalie cringed as she heard the front door slam. _

.

.

It was happening again. His hands were on her body. Her arms were pinned by her side and her thighs were being forced apart. Brown curly hair dangled in her face. Laughter pierced her ears. She felt the fight leaving her body and her mind floating away as he overpowered her and delved unwanted and uninvited into her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and shut out the pain.

The walls were closing in on her and her head began to throb. She touched her finger tips to her forehead and warm, red blood came away with her hand. He was gone. Her thighs were no longer bare, but tightly covered by a thin, comforting blackness. She stood up, running her hand along the damp, material that was tied around her neck. She pulled a zip tie around clean, bare skin that a tattoo now stained.

She looked around and saw no one, but she could hear his voice. She whirled around. He was on his knees, a knee being thrust into his abdomen. A cruel, manipulating smile turned to face her. She was frozen. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She just stood there as her daughter's father slammed a familiar face into the ground. A voice sounded from beside her. He was standing there with a oversized grey hoodie, a cap slumped sideway on his head. There was a dark brown stain on his chest.

"You know shooting me in the back was mean," he said from beside her. "Oh that was a good one, Grant. Go for the head a bit more," he said as the man slapped a blood stained and kneeling Brax backwards. She watched as he hit the ground, his bound hands ineffectually breaking his fall. He was coughing and choking. Blood trailed from his face to the floor, staining white canvas bags. They were just piled beside him. Blood spattered. Brax's blood. Stab wound. "I just wanted a chat, Serge, but I think we're done now."

She felt herself being flung backwards by an invisible force. She lay on her back. Winded. Coughing. There was a cold metal object in her hand. Hammer bent down beside her. A drop of fresh, red blood dripped from his shirt onto her cheek. She blinked. Grant's eyes looked back at her.

"Oh, we swapped places," he told her. Grant pointed over to Hammer who now stood over Brax. He waved. "Here let me help you up." She flinched as Grant's hands travelled over bandages and clasped at her skin. He pulled her up to a sitting position. His hand trailed down her back and skimmed the elastic of her pants. His fingers dipped below the material, rubbing her skin in small circles. His hand was cold.

She looked out over to Hammer and Brax. Brax was on his knees. His face was covered in blood, his nose sitting at a strange, unnatural angle. His shirt was bright red, a wound on his abdomen seeming to drain the blood straight from his face. He was pale beneath a bloody mask. His eyes were rolling back into his head and Hammer was laughing. Laughing and pointing a gun at him. Mocking.

Grant took his hand from her back and clasped them behind his own. He rocked back and forth on his heels. "Is this really how you remember it?" Grant asked her.

The blood was gone. The zip tie remained. He was breathing heavily, slightly hunched. His ribs must have been throbbing. He was staring back at her. She could feel the gun in her hands. Smell the burnt powder. Hear the clinking bounce of the casing on the metal floor. Hammer was still standing. "Don't worry," he said, turning around to face her. "This isn't the first time I've made a girl cry like a sooky little kid." She pulled the trigger.

Sophie woke up with a gasp. Her eyes bugging out of her head. The room was dark. The sheets were heavy. He was next to her. She fought to control her breathing. Her heart was beating so hard her ribs ached. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the room as her breath came in staccato gasps. She turned her head on the pillow with trepidation, wet tendrils of hair sticking to her cheek. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. It was only Phillip.

She scrubbed her hand over her face. She had to get out of here.

.

.

The banging was incessant.

"Alright," Brax yelled, rubbing his face as he stumbled through the doorway. He pummelled at wall trying to find the light switch as he came into the living room. He shielded his eyes against the sudden overwhelming brightness. "Alright I'm comin'!" He pulled the door open. "What do-"

The words died on his lips as Charlie stood before him. She was in her pyjamas. Simple trackies and a tank top. No bra, he noted. She brushed past him and into the house. "Why don't you come in?" he said derisively. He flicked the door shut, watching as it slowly swung back and closed with a gentle click.

"Charlie," he started tiredly. "Its three in the morning, what are you doing here?"

"I-" She ran her hands through her hair, scrunching the strands between her fingers. Her face crumpled and a sob lurched up from within her. Tears escaped her eyes and burnt down her cheeks. Brax rushed forward, his hands searching for hers.

"Hey, hey, Charlie," he said soothingly. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

She fumbled for his hands, grabbing hold tightly. Her short nails dug into his hands. Her breath was coming in harsh gasps, her chest heaving.

"Charlie!"

"I can't-" she started, gasping out the words. "I can't make them stop. Every time. Every. Time. I close my eyes."

"What? Charlie? What happens?"

"They're there," she breathed. "Did I kill them?" She looked up at him panicked. Her eyes wild and unseeing. She was staring right at him but seeing someone else entirely. She ripped her hands from his and pulled away from him. She turned away and stalked through the room. She paced back and forth. He followed her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. Her eyes darted around for a moment before focusing on him.

"You were there," she said as if this truth had only just appeared to her. "Did I kill him?"

Brax just stared at her. Unsure where to start. "Come on," he said, "Sit down." She let him lead her to the couch and sit beside her. He sat facing her, his hands on her thigh.

"Did I kill him?" she repeated numbly. "Hammer."

Brax hung his head and let out a harsh breath. "It wasn't your fault. He had kidnapped you and was going to kill me."

"Oh my God," she choked out over his words. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God."

"Charlie, Charlie," he said forcefully, pulling her chin up so she was forced to look at him. "You didn't have a choice."

"Grant?" she whispered. She let him hold her chin but closed her eyes. He felt warm tears spilling onto his hand. He pushed his hand up her cheek, taking as many of her tears with him as he could and cradled her head in his hands. He could feel the cold sweat in her hair as he tangled his hands in it, holding her to him.

"He's gone," he assured her. "You hear me? He's gone."

She meet his eyes and sniffled. Her eyes were filled to the brim and bloodshot. They stared into him, begging for answers she didn't know the questions to.

"He's Ruby's father." It was a statement. Not a question.

"He will never come near you or Ruby again. Okay? Never."

"Did I-?"

"No," he cut her off quickly, emphatically. "No, you didn't do anything, but he is never coming back. I promise you."

"Yes he is," Charlie mewled. "He keeps coming back. They keep coming back. I can't make them stop."

She turned further towards him, her hands grasping the arm that still held her. "I don't want to remember," she told him, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "If that's all there is, I don't want to remember."

She was just looking at him. Hurt and broken. He felt useless. Useless in a way he hadn't since she was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. She was begging him to make it stop, begging him to take away the memories of the hurt she endured, begging him to carry the pain for her, begging him to protect her. He had no idea what to do. He was supposed to fix it and he didn't know how.

"Brax," she whimpered.

He pulled her roughly to him. She allowed herself to be pulled into his lap, her face warm and wet against his bare chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and just held on. He buried his face in her neck and rubbed her back. He felt her hands come up and claw at his skin, seemingly attempting to pull herself all the way into him, trying to disappear. He cradled her while she sobbed.

.

.


End file.
